LATTER-DAY  PAMPHLETS 


r, 


YU 


i 


EDITED      BY 


THOMAS  CARLYLE, 


r 


"But  as  yet  struggles  the  twelfth  hour  of  the  Night.  Birds  of  darkness  are  on  the  -wing; 
spectres  uproar;  the  dead  walk;  the  living  dream.  Thou,  Eternal  Providence,  wilt  make 
the  Day  dawn  I  —  Jean  Paul. 


ANDOVER: 
WARREN      F.     DRAPER. 

BOSTON:    GOULD  &  LINCOLN.     NEW  YORK:   JOHN  WILEY. 

PHILADELPHIA:    SMITH,   ENGLISH   &   CO. 

1860. 


/  ^c,*^ 


1^ 


^-\'o'^ 


CONTENTS 


\St.o 


I.  THE  PRESENT  TIME,      ...        1 

IT.  MODEL  PRISONS,         ...            61 

III.  DOVv^'IXG   STREET,           .            .            •    HI 

IT.  THE  NEW   DOWNING   STREET,     .          162 

Y.  STUMP-ORATOR,    .           .           •           -219 

TI.  PARLIAMENTS,             .           .           .273 

YII.  HUDSON'S   STATUE,          .            .           .323 

VIII.    JESUITISM 371 


182157 


THE   PRESENT   TIME. 


The  Present  Time,  youngest-born  of  Eternity,  child 
and  lieir  of  all  the  Past  Times  with  their  good  and 
evil,  and  parent  of  all  the  Fntnre,  is  ever  a  'New 
Era  '  to  the  thinking  man  ;  and  comes  with  new 
questions  and  significance,  however  commonplace  it 
look  :  to  know  «7,  and  what  it  bids  us  do,  is  ever  the 
snm  of  knowledge  for  all  of  us.  This  new  Day, 
sent  us  out  of  Heaven,  this  also  has  its  heavenly 
omens;  —  amid  the  bustling  trivialities  and  loud 
empty  noises,  its  silent  monitions,  which  if  we  can- 
not read  and  obey,  it  will  not  be  well  with  us !  No  ; 
—  nor  is  there  any  sin  more  fearfully  avenged  on 
men  and  Nations  than  that  same,  which  indeed  in- 
cludes and  presupposes  all  manner  of  sins  :  the  sin 
which  our  old  pious  fathers  called  'judicial  blind- 
ness ; ' — which  we,  with  our  light  habits,  may  still 
call  misinterpretation  of  the  Time  that  now  is  ;  dis- 
loyalty to  its  real  meanings  and  monitions,  stupid 
disregard  of  these,  stupid  adherence  active  or  passive 
to  the  counterfeits  and  mere  current  semblances  of 
these.     This  is  true  of  all  times  and  days. 

But  in  the  days  that  are  now  passing  over  us,  even 
fools  are  arrested  to  ask  the  meaning  of  them  ;  few 
1 


THE    PKESENT    TIME. 


of  the  generations  of  men  have  seen  more  impressive 
days.  Days  of  endless  calamity,  disruption,  disloca- 
tion, confusion  worse  confounded  :  if  they  are  not 
days  of  endless  hope  too,  then  they  are  days  of  utter 
despair.  For  it  is  not  a  small  hope  that  will  sufiice, 
the  ruin  being  clearly,  either  in  action  or  in  prospect, 
miiversal.  There  must  be  a  new  world,  if  there  is  to 
be  any  world  at  all  !  That  human  things  in  our 
Europe  can  ever  return  to  the  old  sorry  routine,  and 
proceed  with  any  steadiness  or  continuance  there  ; 
this  small  hope  is  not  now  a  tenable  one.  These 
days  of  universal  death  must  be  days  of  universal 
newbirth,  if  the  ruin  is  not  to  be  total  and  final  !  It 
is  a  Time  to  make  the  dullest  man  consider ;  and  ask 
himself,  Whence  he  came  ?  Whither  he  is  bound  ? 
—  A  veritable  'New  Era,'  to  the  foolish  as  well  as 
to  the  wise. 

Not  long  ago  the  world  saw,  with  thoughtless  joy. 
which  might  have  been  very  thoughtful  joy,  a  real 
miracle  not  heretofore  considered  possible  or  conceiv- 
able in  the  world:  a  Keforming  Pope.  A  simple 
pious  creature,  a  good  country  priest,  ii] vested  un- 
expectedly with  the  tiara,  takes  up  the  New  Tes- 
tament, declares  that  this  henceforth  shall  be  his 
rule  of  governing.  No  more  finesse,  chicanery, 
hypocrisy,  or  false  or  foul  dealing  of  any  kind : 
God's  truth  shall  be  spoken,  God's  justice  shall  be 
done,  on  the  throne  called  of  St.  Peter:  an  honest 
Pope,  Papa,  or  Father  of  Christendom,  shall  preside 
there.  And  such  a  throne  of  St.  Peter;  and  such 
a  Christendom,  for  an   honest  Papa  to  preside  in ! 


THE    PRESENT    TI3IE.  3 

The  European  populations  everywhere  hailed  the 
omen  ;  with  shouting  and  rejoicing,  leading-articles 
and  tar-barrels  ;  thinking  people  listened  with  as- 
tonishment,—  not  with  sorrow  if  they  were  faithful 
or  wise  ;  with  awe  rather  as  at  the  heralding  of  death, 
and  with  a  joy  as  of  victory  beyond  death!  Some- 
thing pious,  grand,  and  as  if  awful  in  that  joy,  reveal- 
ing once  more  the  Presence  of  a  Divine  Justice  in 
this  world.  For,  to  such  men,  it  was  very  clear  how 
this  poor  devoted  Pope  would  prosper,  with  his  New 
Testament  in  his  hand.  An  alarming  business,  that 
of  governing  in  the  throne  of  St.  Peter  by  the  rule 
of  veracity!  By  the  rule  of  veracity,  the  so-called 
throne  of  St.  Peter  was  openly  declared,  above  three 
hundred  years  ago,  to  be  a  falsity,  a  huge  mistake, 
a  pestilent  dead  carcass,  which  this  Sun  was  vv^eary 
of.  More  than  three  hundred  years  ago,  the  throne 
of  St.  Peter  received  peremptory  judicial  notice  to 
quit  ;  authentic  order,  registered  in  Heaven's  chancery 
and  since  legible  in  the  hearts  of  all  brave  men,  to 
take  itself  away,  —  to  begone,  and  let  us  have  no 
more  to  do  with  it  and  its  delusions  and  impious  de- 
liriums ;  —  and  it  has  been  sitting  every  day  since, 
it  may  depend  upon  it,  at  its  own  peril  withal,  and 
will  have  to  pay  exact  damages  yet  for  every  day  it 
has  so  sat.  Lav/  of  veracity  ?  What  this  Popedom 
had  to  do  by  the  law  of  veracity,  was  to  give  up  its 
foul  galvanic  life,  an  offence  to  gods  and  men;  hon- 
estly to  die,  and  get  itself  buried  ! 

Far  from  this  was  the  thing  the  poor  Pope  under- 
took in  regard  to  it;  —  and  yet  on  the  whole  it  was 
essentially  this  too.     "  Reforming    Pope  ?  "  said  one 


THE    PRESENT   TIME. 


of  oiif  acquaintance,  often  in  those  Aveeks,  "Was 
there  ever  such  a  miracle  ?  About  to  break  np  that 
huge  imposthume  too,  by  'curing'  it?  Turgot  and 
Necker  were  nothing  to  this.  God  is  great ;  and 
when  a  scandal  is  to  end,  brings  some  devoted  man 
to  take  charge  of  it  in  hope,  not  in  despair !  "  —  But 
cannot  he  reform  ?  asked  many  simple  persons  ;  —  to 
whom  our  friend  in  grim  banter  w^ould  reply  :  "  Re- 
form a  Popedom,  —  hardly.  A  wretched  old  kettle, 
ruined  from  top  to  bottom,  and  consisting  mainly 
now  of  foul  grime  and  i^ust :  stop  the  holes  of 
it,  as  your  antecessors  have  been  doing,  with  tem- 
porary putty,  it  may  hang  together  yet  a  while; 
begin  to  hammer  at  it,  solder  at  it,  to  what  you 
call  mend  and  rectify  it,  —  it  will  fall  to  sherds, 
as  sure  as  rust  is  rust  ;  go  all  into  nameless  dissolu- 
tion,—  and  the  fat  in  the  fire  will  be  a  thing  worth 

looking  at,  poor  Pope  !  " So  accordingly  it  has 

proved.  The  poor  Pope,  amid  felicitations  and  tar- 
barrels  of  various  kinds,  went  on  joyfully  for  a  sea- 
son :  but  he  had  awakened,  he  as  no  other  man  could 
do,  the  sleeping  elements;  mothers  of  the  whirlwinds, 
conflagations,  earthquakes.  Questions  not  very  solu- 
ble at  present,  were  even  sages  and  heroes  set  to  solve 
them,  began  everyvv^here  with  new  emphasis  to  be 
asked.  Questions  which  all  official  men  wished,  and 
almost  hoped,  to  postpone  till  Doomsday.  Doomsday 
Itself  had  come  ;  that  was  the  terrible  truth  !  — 

For,  sure  enough,  if  once  the  law  of  veracity  be 
acknowledged  as  the  rule  for  human  things,  there 
will  not  anywhere  be  want  of  work  for  the  reformer ; 
in   very   few   places  do  human  things  adhere  quite 


THE    PRESENT   TIME.  5 

closely  to  that  law !  Here  was  the  Papa  of  Christen- 
dom proclaiming  that  such  was  actually  the  case;  — 
whereupoii  all  over  Christendom  such  results  as  we 
have  seen.  The  Sicilians,  I  think,  were  the  first 
DOtahle  bodytiiat  set  about  applying  this  new  strange 
rule  sanctioned  by  the  general  Father ;  they  said  to 
themselves,  We  do  not  by  the  law  of  veracity  belong 
to  Naples  and  these  Neapolitan  Officials;  we  will,  by 
favor  of  Heaven  and  the  Pope,  be  free  of  these. 
Fighting  ensued  ;  insurrection,  fiercely  maintained 
in  the  Sicilian  Cities;  with  much  bloodshed,  much 
tumult  and  loud  noise,  vociferation  extending  through 
all  newspapers  and  countries.  The  effect  cf  this^ 
carried  abroad  by  newspapers  and  rumor,  was  great 
in  all  places;  greatest  perhaps  in  Paris,  which  for  six- 
ty years  past  has  been  the  City  of  Insurrections. 
The  French  People  had  plumed  themselves  on  being, 
whatever  else  they  were  not,  at  least  the  chosen  'sol- 
diers of  liberty,'  who  took  the  lead  of  all  creatures  in 
that  pursuit,  at  least ;  and  had  become,  as  their  orators, 
editors,  and  litterateurs  diligently  taught  them,  a  Peo- 
ple whose  bayonets  were  sacred,  a  kind  of  Messiah  Peo- 
ple, saving  a  blind  world  in  its  own  despite,  and  earning 
for  themselves  a  terrestrial  and  even  celestial  glory  very 
considerable  indeed.  And  here  were  the  wretched 
down-trodden  popula:tions  of  Sicily  risen  to  rival  them, 
and  threatening  to  take  the  trade  out  of  their  hand. 
No  doubt  of  it,  this  hearing  continually  of  the  very 
Pope's  glory  as  a  Reformer,  of  the  very  Sicilians  fight- 
ing divinely  for  liberty  behind  barricades.  —  must  have 
bitterly  aggravated  the  feeling  of  every  French.man, 
as  he  looked  around  him,  at  home,  on  a  Louis-Philij/- 
1* 


6  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

pism,  Avhich  had  become  the  scorn  of  all  the  world. 
^^Ichabod ;  is  the  glory  departing  from  us  ?  Under 
the  sun  is  nothing  baser,  by  all  accomits  and  evi- 
dences, than  the  system  of  repression  and  corruption, 
of  shameless  dishonesty  and  unbelief  in  anything  but 
human  baseness,  that  we  now  live  under.  The  Ital- 
ians, the  very  Pope  have  become  apostles  of  liberty, 
and  France  is  —  what  is  France  !  "  —  We  know  what 
France  suddenly  became  in  the  end  of  February  next; 
and  by  a  clear  enough  genealogy,  we  can  trace  a  con- 
siderable share  in  that  event  to  the  good  simple  Pope 
with  the  New  Testament  in  his  hand.  An  outbreak, 
or  at  least  a  radical  change  and  even  inversion  of 
affairs  hardly  to  be  achieved  without  an  outbreak, 
everybody  felt  was  inevitable  in  France  :  but  it  had 
been  universally  expected  that  France  Avould  as  usual 
take  the  initiative  in  that  matter ;  and  had  there  been 
no  reforming  Pope,  no  insurrectionary  Sicily,  France 
had  certainly  not  broken  out  then  and  so,  but  only 
afterwards  and  otherwise.  The  French  explosion, 
not  anticipated  by  the  cunningest  men  there  on  the 
spot  scrutinizing  it,  burst  up  unlimited,  complete, 
defying  computation  or  control. 

Close  following  which,  as  if  by  sympathetic  subter- 
ranean electricities,  all  Europe  exploded,  boundless, 
uncontrollable  ;  and  we  had  the  year  1848,  one  of  the 
most  singular,  disastrous,  amazing,  and  on  the  whole 
humiliating  years  the  European  world  ever  saw.  Not 
since  the  irruption  of  the  Northern  Barbarians  has 
there  been  the  like.  Everywhere  immeasurable  De- 
mocracy rose  monstrous,  loud,  blatant,  inarticulate  as 
the  voice  of  Chaos.    Everywhere  the  Official  holy-of- 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  7 

holies  was  scandalously  laid  bare  to  dogs  and  the 
profane: — Enter,  all  the  world,  see  what  kind  of 
Oiiicial  holy  it  is.  Kings  everywhere,  and  reigning 
persons,  stared  in  sudden  horror,  the  voice  of  the 
whole  Vv^orld  bellowing  in  their  ear,  '•'  Begone,  ye 
imbecile  hypocrites,  liistrios  not  heroes!  Off  with 
you,  olf  !  "  — and,  what  was  pecnliar  and  notable  in 
this  year  for  the  first  time,  the  Kings  all  made  haste 
to  go,  as  if  exclaiming,  "  We  are  poor  liistrios,  we 
sure  enough  ;  —  did  you  want  heroes  ?  Don't  kill  us  ; 
we  couldn't  help  it  !  "  Not  oim  of  them  turned  round, 
and  stood  upon  his  Kingship,  as  upon  a  right  he  could 
afford  to  die  for,  or  to  risk  his  skin  upon  ;  by  no  man- 
ner of  means.  That,  I  say,  is  the  alarming  peculiarity 
at  present.  Democracy,  on  this  new  occasion,  finds 
all  Kings  conscious  that  they  are  but  Playactors.  The 
miserable  mortals,  enacting  their  High  Life  Below 
Stairs,  with  faith  only  that  this  Universe  may  perhaps 
bs'  all  a  phantasm  and  hypocrisis,  —  the  truculent 
Constable  of  the  Destinies  suddenly  enters :  "  Scan- 
dalous Phantasms,  what  do  you  here  ?  Are  '  solemnly 
constituted  Impostors  '  the  proper  Kings  of  men  ?  Did 
you  think  the  Life  of  Man  was  a  grimacing  dance  of 
apes  ?  To  be  led  always  by  the  squeak  of  your  paltry 
fiddle?  Ye  miserable,  this  Universe  is  not  an  uphol- 
stery Puppet-play,  but  a  terrible  God's  Fact ;  and  you, 
I  think,  —  had  not  you  better  be  gone  !  "  They  fled 
precipitately,  sonje  of  them  with  what  we  may  call 
an  exquisite  ignominy,  —  in  terror  of  the  treadmill  or 
worse.  And  everywhere  the  people,  or  the  populace, 
take  their  own  government  upon  themselves ;  and 
open    'kinglessness,'    what   we  call  anarchy ^  —  how 


8  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

happy  if  it  be  anarchy  plus  a  street-constable! — is 
everywhere  the  order  of  the  day.  Such  was  the  iiis- 
tory,  from  BaUic  to  Mediterranean,  in  Italy,  France, 
Prussia,  Austria,  from  end  to  end  of  Europe,  in  those 
March  days  of  1848.  Since  the  destruction  of  the 
old  Roman  Empire  by  inroad  of  the  Northern  Barba- 
rians, I  have  known  nothing  similar. 

And  so,  then,  there  remained  no  King  in  Europe  ; 
no  King  except  the  Public  Haranguer,  haranguing  on 
barrel-head,  in  leading-article  ;  or  getting  himself  ag- 
gregated into  a  National  Parliament  to  harangue. 
And  for  about  four  months  all  France,  and  to  a  great 
degree  all  Europe,  rongh-ridden  by  every  species  of 
delirium,  except  happily  the  murderous  for  most 
part,  was  a  weltering  mob,  presided  over  by  M.  de 
Lamartine  at  the  Hotel-de-Ville  ;  a  most  eloquent  fair- 
spoken  literary  gentleman,  whom  thoughtless  persons 
took  for  a  prophet,  priest,  and  heaven-sent  evangelist, 
and  whom  a  wise  Yankee  friend  of  mine  discerned 
to  be  properly  ''  the  first  stump-orator  in  the  world, 
standing  too  on  the  highest  stump, —  for  the  time." 
A  sorrowful  spectacle  to  men  of  reflection,  during  the 
time  he  lasted,  that  poor  M.  de  Lamartine ;  with 
nothing  in  him  but  melodious  wind  and  soft  sowder, 
which  he  and  others  took  for  something  divine  and 
not  diabolic  !  Sad  enough  :  the  eloquent  latest  im- 
personation of  Chaos-come-again ;  able  to  talk  for 
itself,  and  declare  persuasively  that  it  is  Cosmos ! 
However,  you  have  but  to  wait  a  little,  in  such  cases; 
all  balloons  do  and  must  give  up  their  gas  in  the 
pressure  of  things,  and  are  collapsed  in  a  sufficiently 
wretched  manner  before  long. 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  9 

And  so  ill  City  after  City,  street-barricades  are 
piled,  and  traculeiit,  more  or  less  murderous  insurrec- 
tion begins  ;  populace  after  populace  rises,  King  after 
King  capitulates  or  absconds  :  and  from  end  to  end 
of  Europe  Democracy  has  blazed  up  explosive,  much 
higher,  more  irresistible  and  less  resisted  than  ever 
before  ;  testifying  too  sadly  on  what  a  bottomless 
volcano,  or  universal  powder-mine  of  most  inflamma- 
ble mutinous  chaotic  elements,  separated  from  us  by 
a  thin  earth-rind.  Society  with  all  its  arrangements 
and  acquirements  everywhere,  in  the  present  epoch, 
rests  !  The  kind  of  persons  who  excite  or  give  signal 
to  such  revolutions,  —  students,  yomig  men  of  letters, 
advocates,  editors,  hot  inexperienced  enthusiasts,  or 
fierce  and  justly  bankrupt  desperadoes,  acting  every- 
where on  the  discontent  of  the  milhons  and  blowing 
it  into  flame,  — might  give  rise  to  reflections  as  to  tiie 
character  of  our  epoch.  Never  till  now  did  young 
men,  and  almost  children,  take  such  a  command  in 
human  atfairs.  A  changed  time  since  the  word  Senior 
(Seigneur,  or  Elder)  was  first  devised  to  signify  •  lord,' 
or  superior  ; — as  in  all  languages  of  men  we  find  it 
to  have  been !  Not  an  honorable  document  this 
either,  as  to  the  spiritual  condition  of  our  epoch.  In 
times  when  men  love  wisdom,  the  old  man  will  ever 
be  venerable,  and  be  venerated,  and  reckoned  noble: 
in  times  that  love  something  else  than  wisdom,  and 
indeed  have  little  or  no  wisdom,  and  see  litlle  or  none 
to  love,  the  old  man  will  cease  to  be  venerated  ;  — 
and  looking  more  closely,  also,  you  will  find  that  in 
fact  he  has  ceased  to  be  venerable,  and  has  begun  to 
be  contemptible  ;    a  foolish  boy  still,  a  boy  without 


10  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

the  graces,  generosities  and  opulent  strength  of  young 
bo3^s.  In  these  days,  what  of  lordsJiip  or  leadership 
is  stil!  to  be  done,  the  youth  must  do  it,  not  the  mature 
or  aged  man;  the  mature  jnan,  hardened  into  scepti- 
cal egoism,  knows  no  monition  but  that  of  his  own 
frigid  cautions,  avarices,  mean  timidities;  and  can 
lead  nowhitlier  towards  an  object  that  even  seems 
noble.      But  to  return. 

This  mad  state  of  matters  will  of  coin'se  before 
long  allay  itself,  as  it  has  everywhere  begun  to  do  ; 
the  ordinary  necessities  of  men's  daily  existence  can- 
not comport  with  it,  and  these,  whatever  else  is  cast 
aside,  will  have  their  way.  Some  remounting, — 
very  temporary  remounting,  —  of  the  old  machine, 
under  new  colors  and  altered  forn^is,  will  probably 
ensue  soon  in  most  countries:  the  old  histrionic 
Kings  will  be  admitted  back  under  conditions,  under 
'' Constitutions,"  with  national  Parliaments,  or  the 
like  fashionable  adjuncts;  and  everywhere  the  old 
daily  life  will  try  to  begin  again.  But  there  is  now 
no  hope  that  such  arrangements  can  be  permanent ; 
that  they  can  be  other  than  poor  temporary  make- 
shifts, which,  if  they  try  to  fancy  and  make  them- 
selves pernjanent,  will  be  displaced  by  new  explo- 
sions recurring  more  speedily  than  last  time.  In 
such  baleful  oscillation,  afloat  as  amid  raging  bottom- 
less eddies  and  conllicting  sea-currents,  not  steaduist 
as  on  fixed  foundations,  must  European  Society  con- 
tinue swaying ;  now  disastrously  tumbling,  theu 
painfully  readjusting  itself,  at  ever  shorter  inter- 
vals,—  till  once  the  vcw  rock-basis  does  come  to 
light,  and   the  weltering  deluges  of  mutiny,  and  of 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  11 

For  universal  Democracy^  whatever  we  may  think 
of  it,  has  declared  itself  as  an  inevitable  fact  of  the 
days  in  which  we  live  ;  and  he  who  has  any  chance 
to  instruct,  or  lead,  in  his  days  must  begin  by  admit- 
ting that :  new  street-barricades,  and  new  anarchies, 
still  more  scandalous  if  still  less  sanguinary,  must 
return  and  again  return,  till  governing  persons  every- 
where know  and  admit  that.  Democracy,  it  may  be 
said  everywhere,  is  here  :  —  for  sixty  years  now,  ever 
since  the  grand  or  First  French  Revolution,  that  fact 
has  been  terribly  announced  to  all  the  v/orld ;  in 
message  after  message,  some  of  them  very  terrible 
indeed ;  and  now  at  last  all  the  world  ought  really 
to  believe  it.  That  the  world  does  believe  it;  that 
even  Kings  now  as  good  as  believe  it,  and  know,  or 
with  just  terror  surmise,  that  they  are  but  temporary 
phantasm  Playactors,  and  that  Democracy  is  the 
grand,  alarming,  imminent  and  indisputable  Reality: 
this,  among  the  scandalous  phases  we  witnessed  in 
the  last  two  years,  is  a  phasis  full  of  hope  :  a  sign 
that  we  are  advancing  closer  and  closer  to  the  very 
Problem  itself,  which  it  will  behove  us  to  solve  or 
die;  —  that  all  fighting  and  campaigning  and  coali- 
tioning  in  regard  to  the  existence  of  the  Problem,  is 
hopeless  and  superfluous  henceforth.  The  gods  have 
appointed  it  so  ;  no  Pitt,  nor  body  of  Pitts  or  mortal 
creatures  can  appoint  it  otherwise.  Democracy,  sure 
enough,  is  here  :  one  knows  not  how  long  it  will 
keep  hidden  underground  even  in  Russia ;  —  and 
here  in  England,  though  we  object  to  it  resolutely 
in  the  form  of  street-barricades  and  insurrectionary 
pikes,  and   decidedly  will  not  open  doors  to  it  on 


12  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

those  terms,  the  tramp  of  its  million  feet  is  on  all 
streets  and  thoroughfares,  the  sound  of  its  bewil- 
dered thousandfold  voice  is  in  all  writings  and  sj^eak- 
ings,  in  all  thinkings  and  modes  and  activities  of 
men:  the  soul  that  does  not  now,  with  hope  or 
terror,  discern  it,  is  not  the  one  we  address  on  this 
occasion.  What  25  Democracy ;  this  huge  inevitable 
Product  of  the  Destinies,  which  is  everywhere  »he 
portion  of  our  Europe  in  these  latter  days  ?  There 
hes  the  question  for  us.  Whence  comes  it,  this  uni- 
versal big  black  Democracy;  whither  tends  it;  what 
is  the  meaning  of  it  ?  A  meaning  it  must  have,  or  it 
would  not  be  here.  If  we  can  find  the  riglit  niean- 
ing  of  it,  we  may,  wisely  submitting  or  wisely  resist- 
ing and  controlling,  still  hope  to  live  in  the  midst  of 
it;  if  we  cannot  find  tlie  right  meaning,  if  we  find 
only  the  wrong  or  no  meaning  in  it,  to  live  will  not 
be  possible  !  The  whole  social  wisdom  of  the 
Present  Time  is  summoned,  in  tlie  name  of  the 
Giver  of  Wisdom,  to  make  clear  to  itself,  and  lay 
deeply  to  heart  with  an  eye  to  strenuous  valiant  prac- 
tice and  efibrt,  what  the  meaning  of  this  universal 
revolt  of  the  European  Populations,  which  calls  itself 
Democracy,  and  decides  to  continue  permanent, 
may  be. 

Certainly  it  is  a  drama  full  of  action,  event  fast  fol- 
lowing event;  in  which  curiosity  finds  endlfess  scope, 
and  there  are  interests  at  stake,  enough  to  rivet  the 
attention  of  all  men  simple  and  wise.  Whereat  the 
idle  multitude  lift  up  their  voices,  gratulating,  cele- 
brating sky-high  ;  in' rhyme  and  prose  announcement, 
more  than  plentiful,  that  novj  the  Nev/  Bra,  and  long- 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  13 

expected  Year  One  of  Perfect  Human  Felicity  has 
come.  Glorious  and  immortal  people,  sublime  French 
citizens,  heroic  barricades  ;  triumph  of  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty  —  O  Heaven  !  one  of  the  inevitablest 
private  miseries,  to  an  earnest  man  in  such  circum- 
stances, is  this  multitudinous  efflux  of  oratory  and 
psalmody,  from  the  universal  foolish  human  throat  ; 
drowning  for  the  moment  all  reflection  whatsoever, 
except  the  sorrowful  one  that  you  are  fallen  in  an  evil, 
heavy-laden,  long-eared  age,  and  must  resignedly  bear 
your  part  in  the  same.  The  front  wall  of  yom* 
wretched  old  crazy  dwelling,  long  denounced  by  you 
to  no  purpose,  having  at  last  fairly  folded  itself  over, 
and  fallen  prostrate  into  the  street,  the  floors,  as  may 
happen,  will  still  hang  on  by  the  mere  beam-ends,  and 
coherency  of  old  carpentry,  though  in  a  sloping  direc- 
tion, and  depend  there  till  certain  poor  rusty  nails  and 
wormeaten  dovetailings  give  way:  —  bufis  it  cheer- 
ing, in  such  circumstances,  that  the  whole  household 
burst  forth  into  celebrating  the  new  joys  of  light  and 
ventilation,  liberty  and  picturesqueness  of  position, 
and  thank  God '  that  now  they  have  got  a  house  to 
their  mind  ?  My  dear  household,  cease  singing  and 
psalmodying ;  lay  aside  your  fiddles,  take  out  your 
work-implements,  if  you  have  any  ;  for  I  can  say  with 
confidence  the  laws  of  gravitation  are  still  active,  and 
rusty  nails,  wormeaten  dovetailings,  and  secret  coher- 
ency of  old  carpentry,  are  not  the  best  basis  for  a 
household  !  —  In  the  lanes  of  Irish  cities,  I  have  heard 
say,,  the  wretched  people  are  sometimes  found  living, 
and  nerilously  boiling  their  potatoes,  on  such  swing- 
floors  and  inclined  planes  hanging  on  by  the  joist 
2 


14  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

ends  :  but  I  did  not  liear  that  they  sang  very  much  in 
celebration  of  such  lodgiiig.  No,  they  slid  gently 
about,  sat  near  the  back  wall,  and  perilously  boiled 
their  potatoes,  in  silence  for  most  part !  — 

High  shouts  of  exultation,  in  every  dialect,  by  every 
vehicle  of  speech  and  writing,  rise  from  far  and  near 
over  this  last  avatar  of  Democracy  in  1848  :  and  yet, 
to  wise  miiids,  the  first  aspect  it  presents  seems  rather 
to  be  one  of  boundless  misery  and  sorrow.  What  can 
be  more  miserable  than  this  universal  hunting  out  of 
the  high  dignitaries,  solemn  functionaries,  and  potent, 
grave  and  reverend  seigniors  of  the  world  ;  this  storm- 
ful  rising  up  of  the  inarticulate  dumb  masses  every- 
where, against  those  who  pretended  to  be  speaking 
for  them  and  guiding  them?  These  guides,  then, 
were  mere  blind  men  only  pretending  to  see  ?  These 
rulers  were  not  ruling  at  all ;  they  had  merely  got  on 
the  attributes  and  clothes  of  rulers,  and  were  surrepti- 
tiously drawing  the  wages,  whilo  the  work  remained 
undone?  The  Kings  were  Sham-Kings,  playacting 
as  at  Drury  Lane  ;  — and  what  were  the  people  withal 
that  took  them  for  real  ? 

It  is  probably  the  hugest  disclosure  of  falsity  m 
human  things  that  was  ever  at  one  time  made.  These 
reverend  Dignitaries  that  sat  amid  their  far-shining 
symbols  and  loud-sounding  long-admitted  professions, 
vvere  mere  Impostors,  then  ?  Not  a  true  thing  they 
were  doing,  but  a  false  thing.  The  story  they  told 
men  was  a  cunningly  devised  fable  ;  the  gospels  they 
preached  to  them  were  not  an  account  of  man's  real 
position  in  this  world,  but  an  incoherent  fabrication, 
of   dead   ghosts   and   unborn   shadows,   of  traditions, 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  15 

cants,  indolences,  cowardices, — a  falsity  of  falsities, 
which  at  last  ceases  to  stick  together.  Wilfully  and 
against  their  Avill,  these  high  units  of  mankind  were 
cheats,  then  ;  and  the  low  millions  who  believed  in 
them  Avere  dupes, — a  kind  of  inverse  cheats  too,  or 
they  would  not  have  believed  in  them  so  long.  A 
universal  Bankruptcy  of  Imposture;  that  may  be  the 
brief  definition  of  it.  Imposture'e  very  where  declared 
once  more  to  be  contrary  to  Nature ;  nobody  will 
change  its  word  into  an  act  any  farther :  — fallen  insol- 
vent ;  unable  to  keep  its  head  up  by  these  false  pre- 
tences, or  make  its  pot  boil  any  more  for  the  present ! 
A  more  scandalous  phenomenon,  wide  as  Europe, 
never  afflicted  the  face  of  the  sun.  Bankruptcy 
everywhere ;  foul  ignominy,  and  the  abomination  of 
desolation,  in  all  high  places :  odious  to  look  upon,  as 
the  carnage  of  a  battlefield  on  the  morrow  morning  ; 
a  massacre  not  of  the  innocents ;  we  cannot  call  it  a 
massacre  of  the  innocents ;  but  a  universal  tumbling 
of  Impostors  and  of  Impostures  into  the  street ! 

Such  a  spectacle,  can  we  call  it  joyful?  There  is 
a  joy  in  it,  to  the  wise  man  too ;  yes,  but  a  joy  full 
of  awe,  and  as  it  were  sadder  than  any  sorrow, — like 
the  vision  of  immortality,  unattainable  except  through 
death  and  the  grave  !  And  yet  who  would  not,  in  his 
heart  of  hearts,  feel  piously  thankful  that  Imposture 
has  fallen  bankrupt  ?  By  all  means  let  it  fall  bank- 
rupt ;  in  the  name  of  God  let  it  do  so,  with  v/hatever 
misery  to  itself  and  to  all  of  us.  Imposture,  be  it 
known  then, — known  it  must  and  shall  be, — is  hate- 
ful, unendurable  to  God  and  man.  Let  it  understand 
this  everywhere;  and  swiftly  make  ready  for  depart- 


16  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

lire,  wherever  it  yet  lingers ;  and  let  it  learn  never 
to  return,  if  possible  !  The  eternal  voices,  very  audi- 
bly again,  are  speaking  to  proclaim  this  messcige,  from 
side  to  side  of  the  world.  Not  a  very  cheering  mes- 
sage, but  a  very  indispensable  one. 

Alas,  it  is  sad  enough  that  Anarchy  is  here;  that 
we  are  not  permitted  to  regret  its  being  here,  —  for 
who  tliat  had,  for  this  divine  Universe,  an  eye  which 
was  human  at  all,  could  wish  that  Shams  of  any  kind, 
especially  that  Sham-Kings  should  continue?  No: 
at  all  costs,  it  is  to  be  prayed  by  all  men  that  Shams 
may  cease.  Good  Heavens,  to  what  depths  have  we 
got,  Avhen  this  to  many  a  man  seems  strange  !  Yet 
strange  to  many  a  man  it  does  seem  ;  and  to  many  a 
solid  Englishman,  wholesomely  digesting  his  pudding 
among  what  are  called  the  cultivated  classes,  it  seems 
strange  exceedingly  ;  a  mad  ignorant  notion,  quite 
heterodox,  and  big  with  mere  ruin.  He  lias  been 
used  to  decent  forms  long  since  fallen  empty  of  mean- 
ing, to  plausible  modes,  solemnities  grown  ceremonial, 
—  what  you  in  your  iconoclast  humor  call  shams, — 
all  his  life  long  ;  never  heard  that  there  was  any  harm 
in  them,  that  there  was  any  getting  on  without  them. 
Did  not  cotton  spin  itself,  beef  grow,  and  groceries 
and  spiceries  come  in  from  the  East  and  the  West, 
quite  comfortably  by  the  side  of  shams?  Kings  reigned, 
what  they  were  j^leased  to  call  reigning ;  lawyers 
pleaded,  bishops  preached,  and  honorable  members 
perorated  ;  and  to  crown  the  whole,  as  if  it  were  all 
real  and  no  sham  there,  did  not  scrip  continue  sala- 
ble, and  the  banker  pay  in  bullion,  or  paper  with  a 
metallic  basis?  "The  greatest  sham,  I  have  always 
thought,  is  he  that  would  destroy  shams." 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  17 

Even  so.     To  such  depth  have  7,  the  poor  know- 
ing  person   of  this  epoch,   got; — ahiiost  below  the 
level  of  lowest  humanity,  and  down  towards  the  state 
of  apehood  aud  oxhood !      For   never   till    in   quite 
recent  generations  was  such  a  scandalous  blasplieniy 
quietly   set  fortli   among  the   sons   of  Adam  ;    nevoj 
before  did  the  creature  called  man  believe  generally 
in  his  heart  that  lies  were  the  rule  in  this  Earth  ;  that 
in   deliberate   long-established   lying   could   there   be 
help  or  salvation  for  him,  could  there   be   at  length 
other   than  hinderance   and  destruction  for  him.     O 
Heavyside,  my  solid  friend,  this  is  the  sorrow  of  sor- 
rows :  what  on  earth  can  become  of  us  till   this  ac- 
cursed enchantment,  the  general  summary  and  conse- 
cration of  delusions,  be  cast  forth  from  the  heart  and 
life  of  one  and  all  !     Cast  forth  it  will  be  ;  it  must,  or 
we  are  tending,  at  all  moments,  —  whitherward  I  do 
not  like  to  name.     Alas,  and  the  casting  of  it  out,  to 
what  heights  and  what  depths  will  it  lead  us,  in  the 
sad   universe  mostly  of  lies  and   shams  and   hollow 
phantasms  (grown  very  ghastly  now),  in  which,  as  in 
a  safe  home,  we  have  lived  this  century  or  two  !     To 
heights  and  depths  of  social  and  individual  divorce 
from  delusions,  —  of  'reform'  in  right  sacred  earnest, 
of  indispensable  amendment,  and  stern  sorrowful  abro- 
gation and  order  to  depart,  — such  as  cannot  well  be 
spoken   at   present ;    as   dare   scarcely  be  thought  at 
present  ;  which  nevertheless  are  very  inevitable,  and 
perhaps  rather  imminent  several  of  them  !      Truly  we 
have  a  heavy  task  of  work  before  us  ;  and  there  is  a 
pressing  call  that  we  should  seriously  begin  upon  it, 
before  it  tumble  into   an   inextricable  mass,  in  which 
2* 


18  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

there  will  be  no  working,  but  only  suffering  and  hope- 
lessly perisli  in  g  !  — 

Or  perhaps  Democracy,  which  we  announce  as  now 
come,  wi'J.  itself  manage  it  ?  Democracy,  once  mod- 
elled into  suffrages,  furnished  with  ballot-boxes  and 
suchlike,  will  itself  accomplish  the  salutary  universal 
change  from  Delusive  to  Real,  and  make  a  new 
blessed  world  of  us  by  and  by  ?  —  To  the  great  mass 
of  men,  I  am  aware,  the  matter  presents  itself  quite 
on  this  hopeful  side.  Democracy  they  consider  to  he 
a  kind  of  '  Government.'  The  old  model,  formed 
long  since,  and  brought  to  perfection  in  England  now 
two  hundred  years  ago,  has  proclaimed  itself  to  all 
Nations  as  the  new  healing  for  every  woe  :  '•  Set  up  a 
Parliament,"  the  Nations  everywhere  say,  when  the 
old  King  is  detected  to  be  a  Sham-King,  and  hunted 
out  or  not ;  "set  up  a  Parliament;  let  us  have  suf- 
frages, universal  suffrages  ;  and  all  either  at  once  or 
by  due  degrees  will  be  right,  and  a  real  Millennium 
come  !  "     Such  is  their  way  of  construing  the  matter. 

Such,  alas,  is  by  no  means  my  way  of  construing 
the  matter  ;  if  it  were,  I  should  have  had  the  happi- 
ness of  remaining  silent,  and  been  without  call  to 
speak  here.  It  is  because  the  contrary  of  all  this  is 
deeply  manifest  to  me,  and  apj)ears  to  be  forgotten  by 
multitudes  of  my  contemporaries,  that  I  have  had  to 
undertake  addressing  a  word  to  them.  The  contrary 
of  all  this;  —  and  tlie  farther  1  look  into  the  roots  of 
all  this,  tiie  more  hateful,  ruinous  and  dismal  does  the 
state  of  mind  ail  this  could  have  originated  in  appear 
to  me.     To  examine  this  recipe  of  a  Parliament,  how 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  19 

fit  it  is  for  governing  Nations,  nay  how  fit  it  may  now 
be,  in  these  new  limes,  for  governing  England  itself 
where   we    are    used    to   it   so  long ;   this,    too,  is  an 
alarming  inciuiry.  to  which  all  thinking  men,  and  good 
citizens  of   their  country,   who  have  an  ear  for   the 
small  still   voices  and  eternal  intimations,  across  the 
t(.'mporary  clamors  and  loud  blaring  proclamations,  are 
now  solemnly  invited.     Invited  by  the  rigorous  fact 
itself;  which   will  one  day,   and  that  perhaps   soon, 
demand  practical  decision  or  redecision  of  it  from  us, 
—  with  enormous  penalty  if  we  decide  it  wrong!      I 
think  we  shall   all  have  to  consider  this  question,  one 
day  ;  better  perhaps  now  than  later,  when  the  leisure 
may  be  less.     If  a  Parliament,  with  suffrages  and  uni- 
versal  or  any  conceivable  kind  of   sutfrages,  is  the 
method,  then   certainly  let  us  set  about  discovering 
t!ie  kind  of  suffrages,  and  rest  no  moment  till  we  have 
got  them.     But  it  is  possible  a  Parliament  may  not  be 
tlie  method  !     Possible  the  inveterate  notions  of  the 
English  People  may  have   settled  it  as  the  method, 
and  the  Everlasting  Laws  of  Nature  may  have  settled 
it  as  not  the  method!      Not  the  whole  method;  nor 
the  method  at  alj,  if  taken  as  the  whole?     If  a  Par- 
liament  with  never  such  suffrages  is  7iot  the  method 
settled  by  this  latter  authority,  then  it  will  urgently 
behove  us  to  become  aware  of  that  fact,  and  to  quit 
such    method; — we  may  depend  upon  it,  however 
unanimous  we  be,  every  step  taken  in  that  direction 
will,  by  the   Eternal  Law  of  things,   be  a  step  from 
hnprovement,  not  towards  it. 

Not  towards  it,  I  say,  if  so  !     Unanimity  of  voting, 
—  that  will  do  nothing  for  us  if  so.     Your  ship  can- 


20  THE    FEESENT    TIME. 

not  doable  Cape  Horn  by  its  excellent  plans  of  voting. 
The  ship  may  vote  this  and  that,  above  decks  and 
below,  in  the  most  harmonious  exquisitely  constitu- 
tional manner  :  the  ship,  to  get  round  Cape  Horn,  will 
find  a  set  of  conditions  already  voted  for,  and  fixed 
with  adamantine  rigor,  by  the  ancient  Elemental 
Powers,  who  are  entirely  careless  how  you  vote.  If 
you  can,  by  voting  or  without  voting,  ascertain  these 
conditions,  and  valiantly  conform  to  them,  you  will 
get  round  the  Cape:  if  you  cannot, — the  ruffian 
Winds  will  blow  you  ever  back  again ;  the  inexorable 
Icebergs,  dumb  privy-councillors  from  Chaos,  will 
nudge  you  with  most  chaotic  '  admonition  ; '  you  will 
be  flung  half-frozen  on  the  Patagonian  cliffs,  or  admon- 
ished into  shivers  by  your  iceberg  councillors,  and 
sent  sheer  down  to  Davy  Jones,  and  will  never  get 
round  Cape  Horn  at  all  !  Unanimity  on  board  ship  ; 
—  yes  indeed,  the  ship's  crew  may  be  very  unanimous, 
which  doubtless,  for  the  time  being,  will  be  very  com- 
fortable to  the  ship's  crew,  and  to  their  Phantasm 
Captain  if  they  have  one :  but  if  the  tack  they  unani- 
mously steer  upon  is  guiding  them  into  the  belly  of 
the  Abyss,  it  will  not  profit  them  much !  —  Ships 
accordingly  do  not  use  the  ballot-box  at  all  ;  and  they 
reject  the  Phantasm  species  of  Captains  :  one  wishes 
much  some  other  Entities,  —  since  all  entities  lie 
under  the  same  rigorous  set  of  laws, — could  be 
brought  to  show  as  much  wisdom,  and  sense  at  least 
of  self-preservation,  the  first  command  of  Nature. 
Phantasm  Captains  with  unanimous  votings  :  this  is 
considered  to  be  all  the  law  and  all  the  prophets,  at 
present. 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  21 

If  a  man  could  shake  out  of  his  mind  the  universal 
noise  of  pohtical  doctors  in  this  generation  and  in  the 
Inst  generation  or  two,  and  consider  the  matter  face  to 
face,  with  his  own  sincere  intelligence  looking  at  it,  1 
venture  to  say  he  would  find  this  a  very  extraordinary 
method  of  navigating,  whether  in  the  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan or  the  undiscovered  Sea  of  Time.  To  prosper  in 
this  world,  to  gain  felicity,  victory  and  improvement, 
either  for  a  man  or  a  nation,  there  is  but  one  thing 
requisite.  That  the  man  or  nation  can  discern  what  the 
true  regulations  of  the  Universe  are  in  regard  to  him 
and  his  pursuit,  and  can  faithfully  and  steadfastly  fol- 
low these.  These  will  lead  him  to  victory  ;  whoever  it 
may  be  that  sets  him  in  the  way  of  these,  —  were  it 
Russian  Autocrat,  Chartist  Parliament,  Grand  Lama, 
Force  of  Public  Opinion,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
M'Croudy  the  Seraphic  Doctor  with  his  Last-evangel 
of  Political  Economy,  —  sets  him  in  the  sure  way  to 
please  the  Author  of  this  Universe,  and  is  his  friend  of 
friends.  And  again,  whoever  does  the  contrary  is,  for 
a  like  reason,  his  enemy  of  enemies.  This  may  be 
taken  as  fixed. 

And  now  by  what  method  ascertain  the  monition 
of  the  gods  in  regard  to  our  affairs?  How  decipher, 
with  best  fidelity,  the  eternal  regulation  of  the  Uni- 
verse ;  and  read,  from  amid  such  confused  embroil- 
ments of  human  clamor  and  folly,  what  the  real  Divine 
Message  to  us  is?  A  divine  message,  or  eternal  regu- 
lation of  the  Universe,  there  verily  is,  in  regard  to 
every  conceivable  procedure  and  affair  of  man  :  faith- 
fully follov/ing  this,  said  procedure  or  affair  will  prosv 
per,  and  have  the  whole  Universe  to  second  it,  and 


22  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

carry  it,  across  the  flnctuating  contradictions,  to- 
wards a  victorious  goal  ;  not  following  this,-  mistak- 
ing this,  disregarding  this,  destruction  and  wreck  are 
certain  lor  every  affair.  How  find  it  ?  All  the  world 
answers  me,  ''  Count  heads ;  ask  Universal  Suffrage, 
by  the  ballot-boxes,  and  that  will  tell."  Universal 
suffrage,  ballot-boxes,  count  of  heads  ?  Well,  —  I  per- 
ceive we  have  got  into  strange  spiritual  latitudes  in- 
deed. Within  the  last  half  century  or  so,  either  the 
Universe  or  else  the  heads  of  men  must  have  al- 
tered very  much.  Half  a  century  ago,  and  down 
from  Father  Adam's  time  till  then,  the  Universe, 
wherever  I  could  hear  tell  of  it,  was  wont  to  be  of 
somewhat  abstruse  nature;  by  no  means  carrying  its 
secret  written  on  its  face,  legible  to  every  passer-by ; 
on  the  contrary,  obstinatel}^  hiding  its  secret  from  all 
foolish,  slavish,  wicked,  insincere  persons,  and  partially 
disclosing  it  to  the  wise  and  noble-minded  alone, 
whose  number  was  not  the  majority  in  my  time!  — 
Or  perhaps  the  chief  end  of  man  being  now,  in  these 
improved  epochs,  to  make  money  and  spend  it,  his  in- 
terests in  the  Universe  have  become  amazingly  sim- 
plified of  late  ;  capable  of  being  voted  on  with  effect 
by  almost  anybody?  '  To  buy  in  the  cheapest  mar- 
ket, and  sell  in  the  dearest :  '  truly  if  that  is  the  sum- 
mary of  his  social  duties,  and  the  final  divine-message 
he  has  to  follow,  we  may  trust  him  extensively  to 
vote  upon  that.  But  if  it  is  not,  and  never  was,  or 
can  be  ?  If  the  Universe  will  not  carry  on  its  divine 
bosom  any  commonwealth  of  mortals  that  have  no 
higher  aim,  —  being  still  'a  Temple  and  Hall  of 
Doom,'  not  a  mere  Weaving-shop   and  Cattle-pen? 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  23 

If  the  iinfathomal)]e  Universe  has  decided  to  reject 
Human  Beavers  pretending  to  be  Men  ;  and  will  abol- 
ish, pretty  rapidly  perhaps,  in  hideous  mud-deluges, 
their  'markets'  and  them,  unless  they  think   of  it? 

111  that  case  it  were  better  to  think  of  it ;  and  the 

Democracies  and  Universal  Suffrages,  1  can  observe, 
will  require  to  modify  themselves  a  good  deal! 

Historically  speaking,  I  believe  there  was  no  Nation 
that  could  subsist  upon  Democracy.  Of  ancient  Repub- 
lics, and  Demoi  and  Popidi,  we  have  heard  much  ;  but 
it  is  now  pretty  well  admitted  to  be  nothing  to  our 
purpose  ;  — a  universal-suffrage  republic,  or  a  general- 
suffrage  one,  or  any  but  a  most  limited-suffrage  one, 
never  came  to  light,  or  dreamed  of  doing  so,  in  ancient 
times.  When  the  mass  of  the  population  were  slaves, 
and  the  voters  intrinsically  a  kind  of  kings,  or  men 
born  to  rule  others;  when  the  voters  were  real  'aris- 
tocrats' and  manageable  dependants  of  such, — then 
doubtless  voting,  and  confused  jumbling  of  talk  and 
intrigue,  might,  without  immediate  destruction,  or  the 
need  of  a  Cavaignac  to  intervene  with  cannon  and 
sweep  the  streets  clear  of  it,  go  on ;  and  beautiful 
developments  of  manhood  might  be  possible  beside  it, 
for  a  season.  Beside  it  ;  or  even,  if  you  will,  by 
means  of  it,  and  in  virtue  of  it,  though  that  is  by  no 
means  so  certain  as  is  often  supposed.  Alas,  no  :  the 
reflective  constitutional  mind  has  misgivings  as  to  the 
origin  of  old  Greek  and  Roman  nobleness  ;  and  indeed 
knows  not  how  this  or  any  other  human  nobleness 
could  well  be  'originated,'  or  brought  to  pass,  by 
voting  or  without  voting,  in  this  world,  except  by  the 


24  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

grace  of  God  very  mainly  ;  —  and  remembers  with  a 
sigh,  that  of  the  Seven  Sages  themselves,  no  fewer 
than  three  were  bits  of  Despotic  Kings,  TJpawoi, 
'  Tyrants '  so-called  (such  being  greatly  wanted  there) ; 
and  that  the  other  four  w^ere  very  far  from  Red  He- 
publicans,  if  of  any  political  faith  whatever  !  We 
may  quit  the  Ancient  Classical  concern,  and  leave  it 
to  College  clubs  and  speculative  debating  societies,  in 
these  late  days. 

Of  the  various  French  Republics  that  have  been 
tried,  or  that  are  still  on  trial,  —  of  these  also  it  is  not 
needful  to  say  any  word.  But  there  is  one  modern 
instance  of  Democracy  nearly  perfect,  the  Republic 
of  the  United  States,  which  has  actually  subsisted  for 
threescore  years  or  more,  w^ith  immense  success  as  is 
affirmed  ;  to  which  many  still  appeal,  as  to  a  sign  of 
hope  for  all  nations,  and  a  '  Model  Republic'  Is  not 
America  an  instance  in  point  ?  AVhy  should  not  all 
Nations  subsist  and  flourish  on  Democracy,  as  America 
does  ? 

Of  America  it  would  ill  beseem  any  Englishman, 
and  me  perhaps  as  little  as  another,  to  speak  unkind- 
ly, to  speak  unpatriotically^  if  any  of  us  even  felt  so. 
Sure  enough,  America  is  a  great,  and  in  many  re- 
spects a  blessed  and  hopeful  phenomenon.  Sure 
enough,  these  hardy  millions  of  Anglo-Saxon  men 
prove  themselves  worthy  of  their  genealogy  ;  and, 
wdth  the  axe  and  plough  and  hammer,  if  not  yet 
w^ith  any  much  finer  kind  of  implements,  are  trium- 
phantly clearing  out  wide  spaces,  seedfields  for  the 
sustenance  and  refuge  of  mankind,  arenas  for  the  fu- 
ture history  of  the  world  ;  —  doing,  in  their  day  and 


THE    PKESENT    TIME.  25 

generation,  a  creditable  and  cheering  feat  under  the 
sun.  But  as  to  a  Model  Republic,  or  a  model  any- 
thing, tlie  wise  among  themselves  know  too  well  that 
there  is  nothing  to  be  said.  Nay,  the  title  hitherto 
to  be  a  Commonwealth  or  Nation  at  all,  among  the 
t^vci  of  the  world,  is,  strictly  considered,  still  a  thing 
they  are  but  striving  for,  and  indeed  have  not  yet 
done  much  towards  attaining.  Their  Constitution, 
such  as  it  may  be,  was  made  here,  not  there  ;  "went 
over  with  them  from  the  Old  Puritan  English  work- 
shop, ready-made.  Deduct  what  they  carried  with 
them  from  England  ready-made,  —  their  common 
English  Language,  and  that  same  Constitution,  or 
rather  elixir  of  constitutions,  their  inveterate  and 
now,  as  it  were,  inborn  reverence  for  the  Constable's 
Staff;  two  quite  immense  attainments,  which  Eng- 
land had  to  spend  much  blood,  and  valiant  sweat  of 
brow  and  brain,  for  centuries  long,  in  achieving  ;  — 
and  what  new  elements  of  polity  or  nationhood,  what 
noble  new  phasis  of  human  arrangement,  or  social 
device  worthy  of  Prometheus  or  of  Epimetheus,  yet 
comes  to  light  in  America?  Cotton-crops  and  Indian 
corn  and  dollars  come  to  light  ;  and  half  a  world  of 
untilled  land,  where  populations  that  respect  the  con- 
stable can  live,  for  the  present,  without  Government : 
this  comes  to  light  ;  and  the  profound  sorrow  of  all 
nobler  hearts,  here  uttering  itself  as  silent  patient 
anspeakable  ennui,  there  coming  out  as  vague  elegiac 
vvailings,  that  there  is  still  next  to  nothing  more. 
'  Anarchy  ^/«s  a  street-constable:'  that  also  is  anar- 
chic to  me,  and  other  than  quite  lovely  ! 

I  foresee  too  that,  long  before  the   waste  lands  are 


26  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

full,  the  very  street-constable,  on  these  poor  terms 
will  have  become  impossible :  without  the  waste 
lands,  as  here  in  our  Europe,  I  do  not  see  how  he 
conld  continue  possible  many  weeks.  Cease  to  brag 
to  me  of  America,  and  its  model  institutions  and  con- 
stitutions. To  men  in  their  sleep  there  is  nothing 
granted  in  this  world  :  nothing,  or  as  good  as  nothing, 
to  men  that  sit  idly  caucusing  and  ballot-boxing  on 
the  graves  of  their  heroic  ancestors,  saying,  "  It  is 
well,  it  is  well  !  "  Corn  and  bacon  are  granted  :  not 
a  very  sublime  boon,  on  such  conditions  ;  a  boon 
moreover  which,  on  such  conditions,  cannot  last ! 
No  :  America  too  will  have  to  strain  its  energies,  in 
quite  other  fashion  than  this  ;  to  crack  its  sinews, 
and  all  bnt  break  its  heart,  as  the  rest  of  ns  have  had 
-)  do,  in  thousandfold  wrestle  with  the  Pythons  and 
Mud-demons,  before  it  can  become  a  habitation  for 
iViC  gods.  America's  battle  is  yet  to  fight ;  and  we, 
fciUTOwful  though  nothing  doubting,  will  wish  her 
strength  for  it.  New  Spiritual  Pythons,  plenty  of 
them  ;  enormous  Megatherions,  as  ugly  as  were  ever 
born  of  mud,  loom  huge  and  hideous  out  of  the  twi- 
light  Future  on  America;  and  she  will  have  her  own 
agony,  and  her  own  victory,  but  on  other  terms  than 
she  is  yet  quite  aware  of.  Hitherto  she  but  ploughs 
and  hammers,  in  a  very  successful  manner  ;  hitherto, 
in  spite  of  her  'roast-goose  with  apple-sance,'  she  is 
not  much.  '  Roast-goose  with  apple-sauce  for  the 
poorest  working  man  : '  well  surely  that  is  some- 
thing,—  thanks  to  your  respect  for  the  street-consta-. 
ble,  and  to  your  continents  of  fertile  waste  land  ;  — 
but  that,  even  if  it  could  continue,  is  by  no  means 


THE    PRESENT    TI'ME.  27 

enough  ;  that  is  not  even  an  instalment  towards  what 
Avill  be  required  of  you.  My  friend,  brag  not  yet  of 
our  American  cousins!  Their  quantity  of  cotton, 
dollars,  industry,  and  resources,  I  beheve  to  be  almost 
imspeakable  ;  but  I  can  by  no  means  worship  the 
like  of  these.  What  great  human  soul,  what  great 
thought,  what  great  noble  thing  that  one  could  wor- 
ship, or  loyally  admire,  has  yet  been  produced  there  ? 
None  ;  the  American  consins  have  yet  done  none  of 
these  things.  ''What  they  have  done?"  growls 
Smelfungus,  tired  of  the  subject :  ''  They  have 
doubled  their  population  every  twenty  years.  They 
have  begotten,  with  a  rapidity  beyond  recorded  exam- 
ple, Eighteen  Millions  of  the  greatest  bo?^es  ever  seen 
in  this  world  before  :  —  that,  hitherto,  is  their  feat  in 
History  !  " —  And  so  we  leave  them,  for  the  present  ; 
and  cannot  predict  the  success  of  Democracy,  on  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic,  from  their  example. 

Alas,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  and  on  that,  De- 
mocracy, we  apprehend,  is  forever  impossible!  So 
much,  with  certainty  of  loud  astonished  contradiction 
from  all  manner  of  men  at  present,  but  with  sure 
appeal  to  the  Law  of  Nature  and  the  ever-abiding 
Fact,  may  be  suggested  and  asserted  once  more. 
The  Universe  itself  is  a  Monarchy  and  Hierarchy  ; 
large  liberty  of  'voting'  there,  all  manner  of  choice, 
utmost  free-will,  but  with  conditions  inexorable  and 
immeasurable  annexed  to  every  exercise  of  the  same. 
A  most  free  commonwealth  of  'voters;'  but  with 
Eternal  Justice  to  preside  over  it,  Eternal  Justice 
enforced  by  Almighty  Power  !  This  is  the  model  of 
*  constitutions ; '  this  :  nor  in  any  Nation  whore  there 


28  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

has  not  yet  (in  some  supportable  and  withal  some 
constantly-increasing  degree)  been  confided  to  the 
Noblest,  with  his  select  series  of  Nobler,  the  divine 
everlasting  duty  of  directing  and  controlling  the  Igno- 
ble, has  the  '  Kingdom  of  God,'  which  we  all  pray 
for,  '  come,'  nor  can  '  His  will '  even  tend  to  be  '  done 
on  Earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven  '  till  then.  My  Christian 
friends,  and  indeed  my  Sham-Christian  and  Anti- 
Christian,  and  all  manner  of  men,  are  invited  to  reflect 
on  this.  They  will  find  it  to  be  the  truth  of  the  case. 
The  Noble  in  the  high  place,  the  Ignoble  in  the  low  ; 
that  is,  in  all  times  and  in  all  places,  the  Almighty 
Maker's  Law. 

To  raise  the  Sham-Noblest,  and  solemnly  consecrate 
hi?7i  by  whatever  method,  new-devised,  or  slavishly 
adhered  to  from  old  wont,  this,  little  as  we  may  regard 
it,  is  a  practical  blasphemy  forevermore,  and  Nature 
will  in  no  wise  forget  it.^  Alas,  there  lies  the  origin, 
the  fatal  necessity,  of  modern  Deniocracy  everywhere. 
It  is  the  Noblest,  not  the  Sham-Noblest ;  it  is  God 
Almighty's  Noble,  not  the  Court-Tailor's  Noble,  nor 
the  Able-Editor's  Noble,  that  must,  in  some  approxi- 
mate degree,  be  raised  to  the  supreme  place  ;  he  and 
not  a  counterfeit,  —  under  penalties  !  Penalties  deep 
as  death,  and  at  length  terrible  as  hell-on-earth,  my 
constitutional  friend!  —  Will  the  ballot-box  raise  the 
Noblest  to  the  chief  place  ;  does  any  sane  man  delib- 
erately believe  such  a  thing?  That  nevertheless  is 
the  indispensable  result,  attain  it  how  we  may  :  if 
that  is  attained,  all  is  attained  ;  if  not  that,  nothing. 
He  that  cannot  believe  the  ballot-box  to  be  attaining 
it,  will  be  comparatively  indifferent  to  the  ballot-box. 


THE    PRESENT    TIME. 


29 


Excellent  for  keeping  the  ship's  crew  at  peace,  under 
their  Phantasm  Captain ;  hut  unserviceable,  under 
such,  for  getting  round  Cape  Horn.  Alas,  that  there 
should  be  human  beings  requiring  to  have  these 
things  argued  of,  at  this  late  time  of  day  ! 

I  say,  it  is  the  everlasting  privilege  of  the  foolish  to 
be  governed  by  the  wise  ;  to  be  guided  in  the  right 
path  by  those  who  know  it  better  than  they.  This 
is  the  first  'right  of  man;'  compared  with  wliich  all 
other  rights  are  as  nothing, — mere  superfluities,  corol- 
laries which  will  follow  of  their  own  accord  out  of 
tbis;  if  they  be  not  contradictions  to  this,  and  less 
than  nothing!  To  the  wise  it  is  not  a  privilege;  far 
other  indeed.  Doubtless,  as  bringing  preservation  to 
their  country,  it  implies  preservation  of  themselves 
withal ;  but  intrinsically  it  is  the  harshest  duty  a  wise 
man,  if  he  be  indeed  wise,  has  laid  to  his  baud.  A 
duty  which  he  would  fain  enough  shirk  ;  which  ac- 
cordingly, in  these  sad  times  of  doubt  and  cowardly 
sloth,  he  has  long  everywhere  been  endeavoring  to  re- 
duce to  its  minimum,  and  has  in  fact  in  most  cases 
nearly  escaped  altogether.  It  is  an  ungoverned  world  ; 
a  world  which  we  flatter  ourselves  will  henceforth  need 
no  governing.  On  the  dust  of  our  heroic  ancestors 
we  too  sit  ballot-boxing,  saying  to  one  another,  It  is 
well,  it  is  well !  By  inheritance  of  their  noble  strug- 
gles, we  have  been  permitted  to  sit  slothful  so  long. 
By  noble  toil,  not  by  shallow  laughter  and  vain  talk, 
they  made  this  English  Existence  from  a  savage  forest 
into  an  arable  inhabitable  field  for  us;  and  we  idly 
dreaming  it  would  grow  spontan<5ous  crops  forever, — 
find  it  now  in  a  too  questionable  state  ;  peremptorily 
3* 


30  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

requiring  real  labor  and  agriculture  again.  Real 
'agriculture'  is  not  pleasant;  much  pleasanter  to 
reap  and  winnow  (with  ballot-box  or  otherwise)  than 
to  plough  ! 

Who  would  govern  that  can  get  along  without 
governing  ?  He  that  is  fittest  for  it,  is  of  all  men  the 
unwillingest  unless  constrained.  By  multifarious  de- 
vices we  have  been  endeavoring  to  dispense  with 
governing;  and  by  very  superficial  speculations,  of 
laissez-faire^  supply-and-demand,  <fec.  &c.  to  per- 
suade ourselves  that  it  is  best  so.  The  Real  Captain, 
unless  it  be  some  Captain  of  mechanical  Industry  hired 
by  Mammon,  where  is  he  in  these  days?  Most  like- 
ly, in  silence,  in  sad  isolation  somewhere,  in  remote 
obscurity ;  trying  if,  in  an  evil  ungoverned  time,  he 
cannot  at  least  govern  himself.  The  Real  Captain 
undiscoverable ;  the  Phantasm  Captain  everywhere 
very  conspicuous  :  —  it  is  thought  Phantasm  Captains, 
aided  by  ballot-boxes,  are  the  true  method,  after  all. 
They  are  much  the  pleasantest  for  the  time  being ! 
And  so  no  Dux  or  Duke  of  any  sort,  in  any  province 
of  our  affairs,  now  leads  :  the  Duke's  Bailiff  leads, 
what  litlle  leading  is  required  for  getting  in  the  rents; 
and  the  Duke  merely  rides  in  the  state  coach.  It  is 
everywhere  so  :  and  now  at  last  we  see  a  world  all 
rushing  towards  strange  consummations,  because  it  is 
and  has  long  been  so ! 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  31 

1  do  not  suppose  any  reader  of  mine,  or  many  per- 
sons in  England  at  all,  have  much  faith  in  Fraternity, 
Equality  and  the  Revolutionary  Millenniums  preached 
by  the  French  Prophets  in  this  age  :  but  there  are 
many  movements  here  too  which  lend  inevitably  in 
the  like  direction;  and  good  men,  who  would  stand 
aghast  at  Red  Repnblic  and  its  adjuncts,  seem  to  me 
travelling  at  full  speed  towards  that  or  a  similar  goal ! 
Certainly  the  notion  everywhere  prevails  among  us 
too,  and  preaches  itself  abroad  in  every  dialect, 
uncontradicted  anywhere  so  far  as  I  can  hear,  That 
the  grand  panacea  for  social  woes  is  what  we  call 
'enfranchisement,'  'emancipation;'  or,  translated 
into  practical  language,  the  cutting  asunder  of 
human  relations,  wherever  they  are  found  grievous, 
as  is  like  to  be  pretty  universally  the  case  at  the  rate 
v/e  have  been  going  for  some  generations  past.  Let 
us  all  be  'free'  of  one  another;  we  shall  then  be 
happy.  Free,  without  bond  or  connection  except 
that  of  cash  payment  ;  fair  day's  wages  for  the  fair 
day's  work,  bargained  for  by  voluntary  contract,  and 
law  of  supply  and  demand  :  this  is  thought  to  be 
the  true  solution  of  all  difficulties  and  injustices  that 
have  occurred  between  man  and  man. 

To  rectify  the  relation  that  exists  between  two 
men,  is  there  no  method,  then,  but  that  of  ending  it  ? 
The  old  relation  has  become  unsuitable,  obsolete, 
perhaps  unjust ;  it  imperatively  requires  to  be  amend- 
ed ;  and  the  remedy  is.  Abolish  it,  let  there  hence- 
forth be  no  relation  at  all.  From  the  '  Sacrament  of 
Marriage'  downwards,  human  beings  used  to  be  man- 


32  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

ifoldly  related,  one  to  another,  and  each  to  all ;  and 
there  was  no  relation  among  human  beings,  just  or 
nnjnst,  that  had  not  its  grievances  and  difficulties,  its 
necessities  on  both  sides  to  bear  and  forbear.  But 
henccx^orth,  be  it  known,  we  have  changed  all  that, 
by  favor  of  Heaven  :  *  the  voluntary  principle  '  has 
come  np,  which  will  itself  do  the  business  for  us ; 
and  now  let  a  new  Sacrament,  that  of  Divorce, 
which  we  call  emancipation,  and  spout  of  on  our 
platforms,  be  universally  the  order  of  the  day  ! — > 
Have  men  considered  whither  all  this  is  tending, 
and  what  it  certainly  enough  betokens  ?  Cut  every 
human  relation  which  has  anywhere  grown  uneasy 
sheer  asunder  ;  reduce  whatsoever  was  compulsory  to 
voluntary,  whatsoever  was  permanent  among  us  to 
the  condition  of  nomadic  :  —  in  other  words,  loosen 
by  assiduous  wedges  in  every  joint,  the  whole  fabric 
of  social  existence,  stone  from  stone  ;  till  at  last,  all 
now  being  loose  enough,  it  can,  as  we  already  see  in 
most  countries,  be  overset  by  sudden  outburst  of  rev- 
olutionary rage  ;  and,  lying  as  mere  mountains  of 
anarchic  rubbish,  solicit  you  to  sing  Fraternity  <fcc. 
over  it,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  new  remarkable  era  of 
human  progress  we  have  arrived  at. 

Certainly  Emancipation  proceeds  with  rapid  strides 
among  us,  this  good  while ;  and  has  got  to  such  a 
length  as  might  giv^e  rise  to  reflections  in  men  of  a 
serious  turn.  West-Indian  Blacks  are  emancipated, 
and  it  appears  refuse  to  work:  Irish  Whites  have 
long  been  entirely  emancipated  ;  and  nobody  asks 
them  to  work,  or  on  condition  of  finding  them  pota- 
toes  (which,    of    course,    is   indispensable),    permits 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  33 

them  to  work.  —  Among  speculative  persons,  a  ques- 
tion has  sometimes  risen  :  In  the  progress  of  Emanci- 
pation, are  we  to  look  for  a  time  when  all  the  Horses 
also  are  to  be  emancipated,  and  brought  to  the 
SLipplv-and-demand  principle  ?  Horses  too  have 
'  motives  ;  '  are  acted  on  by  hunger,  fear,  hope,  love 
of  oats,  terror  of  platted  leather  ;  nay  they  have  vanity, 
ambition,  emulation,  thankfulness,  vindictiveness ; 
some  rude  outline  of  all  our  human  spiritualities, — > 
a  rude  resemblance  to  us  in  mind  and  intelligence, 
even  as  they  have  in  bodily  frame.  The  Horse, 
poor  dumb  four-footed  fellow,  he  too  has  his  private 
feelings,  his  affections,  gratitudes  ;  and  deserves  good 
usage  ;  no  human  master,  without  crime,  shall  treat 
him  unjustly  either,  or  recklessly  lay  on  the  whip 
where  it  is  not  needed  :  —  I  am  sure  if  I  could  make 
him  '  happy,'  I  should  be  willing  to  grant  a  small  vote 
(in  addition  to  the  late  twenty  millions)  for  that  object ! 
Him  too  you  occasionally  tyrannize  over  ;  and  with 
bad  result  to  yourselves  among  others;  using  the 
leather  in  a  tyrannous  uimecessary  manner ;  with- 
holding, or  scantily  furnishing,  the  oats  and  ventilated 
stabling  that  are  due.  Rugged  horse-subduers,  one 
fears  they  are  a  little  tyrannous  at  times.  "  Am  I 
not  a  horse,  and  /i-^/ //'-brother  ?  "  —  To  remedy  Avhich, 
so  far  as  remediable,  fancy  —  the  horses  all  'eman- 
cipated ; '  restored  to  their  primeval  right  of  property 
in  the  grass  of  this  Globe  ;  turned  out  to  graze  in  an 
independent  supply-and-demand  manner  !  So  long 
as  grass  lasts,  I  dare  say  they  are  very  happy,  or  think 
themselves  so.  And  Farmer  Hodge  sallying  forth, 
on  a  dry  spring  nxorning,  with  a  sieve  of  oats  in  his 


34  THE    PKESENT    TIME. 

hand,  and  agony  of  eager  expectation  in  his  heart,  is 
he  happy  ?  Help  me  to  plongh  this  day,  Black  Dob- 
bin  :  oais  in  full  measure  if  thou  wilt.  "  Hlniih, 
No  —  thank!"  snorts  Black  Dobbin;  he  prefers 
glorious  liberty  and  the  grass.  Bay  Darby,  wilt  not 
thou  perhaps?  "Hlunh!" — Gray  Joan,  then,  my 
beautiful  broad-bottomed  mare,  —  O  Heaven,  she  too 
answers  Hlunh  !  Not  a  quadruped  of  them  will 
plough  a  stroke  for  me.  Corn-crops  are  ended  in  this 
world  !  —  For  the  sake,  if  not  of  Hodge,  then  of 
Hodge's  horses,  one  prays  this  benevolent  practice 
might  now  cease,  and  a  new  and  better  one  try  to 
begin.  Small  kindness  to  Hodge's  horses  to  emanci- 
pate them  !  The  fate  of  all  emancipated  horses  is, 
sooner  or  later,  inevitable.  To  have  in  this  habitable 
Earth  no  grass  to  eat,  —  in  Black  Jamaica  gradually 
none,  as  in  White  Connemara  already  none;  —  to 
roam  aimless,  wasting  the  seedfields  of  the  world  ; 
and  be  hunted  home  to  Chaos,  by  the  due  watch-dogs 
and  due  hell-dogs,  with  such  horrors  of  forsaken 
wretchedness  as  were  never  seen  before  !  These 
things  are  not  sport  ;  they  are  terribly  true,  in  this 
country  at  this  hour. 

Between  our  Black  West  Indies  and  our  White 
Ireland,  between  these  two  extremes  of  lazy  refusal  to 
work,  and  of  famishing  inability  to  find  any  work, 
what  a  world  have  we  made  of  it,  with  our  fierce 
Mammon-worships,  and  our  benevolent  philanderings, 
and  idle  godless  nonsenses  of  one  kind  and  another! 
Supply-and-demand,  Leave-it-alone,  Voluntary  prin- 
ciple,  Time   will   mend   it :  —  till  British   industrial 


THE    PRESENT    TT:.IE.  35 

existence  seems  fast  becoming  one  huge  poison-swamp 
of  reeking  pestilence  physical  and  moral;  a  hideous 
living  Golgotlia  of  souls  and  bodies  buried  alive ; 
such  a  Curtius'-gulf,  communicating  with  the  Nether 
Deeps,  as  the  Sun  never  saw  till  now.  These  scenes, 
which  the  Moniiitg  Chronicle  is  bringing  home  to 
all  minds  of  men,  —  thanks  to  it  for  a  service  such 
as  Newspapers  have  seldom  done,  —  ought  to  excite 
unspeakable  reflections  in  every  mind.  Thirty-thou- 
sand outcast  Needlewomen  v/orking  themselves  swiftly 
to  death  ;  three-million  Paupers  rotting  in  forced  idle- 
ness, helping  said  Needlewomen  to  die  :  these  are  but 
items  in  the  sad  leger  of  despair. 

Thirty-thousand  wretched  women,  sunk  in  that 
putrefying  well  of  abominations  ;  they  have  oozed  in 
upon  London,  from  the  universal  Stygian  quagmire 
of  British  industrial  life;  are  accumulated  in  the  well 
of  the  concern,  to  that  extent.  British  charity  is 
smitten  to  the  heart,  at  the  laying  bare  of  such  a 
scene ;  passionately  undertakes,  by  enormous  sub- 
scription of  money,  or  by  other  enormous  effort,  to 
redress  that  individual  horror  ;  as  I  and  all  men  hope 
it  may.  But,  alas,  what  next  ?  This  general  well 
and  cesspool  once  baled  clean  out  to-day,  will  begin 
before  night  to  fill  itself  anew.  The  universal  Sty- 
gian quagmire  is  still  there  ;  opulent  in  women  ready 
to  be  ruined,  and  in  men  ready.  Towards  the  same 
sad  cesspool  will  these  waste  currents  of  human  ruin 
ooze  and  gravitate  as  heretofore  ;  except  in  draining 
the  universal  quagmire  itself  there  is  no  remedy. 
"  And  for  that,  what  is  the  method?"  cry  many  in  an 
angry  rnanner.     To  whom,  for  the  present,  I  answer 


36  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

only,  ''Not  'emancipation,'  it  would  seem,  my 
friends  ;  not  the  cutting  loose  of  human  ties,  some- 
thing far  the  reverse  of  tliat  !  " 

Many  things  hav^e  been  written  about  shirtmak- 
ing  ;  but  here  perhaps  is  the  saddest  thing  of  all,  not 
Avritten  anywhere  till  now,  that  I  know  of.  Shirts 
by  the  thirty-thousand  are  made  at  twopence-half- 
penny each;  —  and  in  the  meanwhile  no  needle- 
woman, distressed  or  other,  can  be  procured  in  Lon- 
don by  any  housewife  to  give,  for  fair  wages,  fair 
help  in  sewing.  Ask  any  thrifty  house-mother,  high 
or  low,  and  she  will  answer.  In  high  houses  and  in 
low,  there  is  the  same  answer :  No  real  needlewoman, 
'  distressed'  or  other,  has  been  found  attainable  in  any 
of  the  houses  I  frequent.  Imaginary  needlewomen, 
who  demand  considerable  wages,  and  have  a  deepish 
appetite  for  beer  and  viands,  I  hear  of  every  where  ; 
but  their  sewing  proves  too  often  a  distracted  pucker- 
ing and  botching ;  not  sewing,  only  the  fallacious 
hope  of  it,  a  fond  imagination  of  the  mind.  Good 
sempstresses  are  to  be  hired  in  every  village ;  and  in 
London,  with  its  famishing  thirty-thousand,  not  at 
all,  or  hardly.  —  Is  not  No-government  beautiful  in 
human  business  ?  To  such  length  has  the  Leave- 
alone  principle  carried  it,  by  way  of  organizing  labor, 
in  this  affair  of  shirlmaking.  Let  us  hope  the  Leave- 
alone  principle  has  now  got  its  apotheosis;  and 
taken  wing  towards  higher  regions  than  ours,  to  deal 
henceforth  with  a  class  of  affairs  more  appropriate  for 
it! 

Reader,  did  you  ever   hear   of  '  Constituted  Anar- 
chy ? '      Anarchy ;    the   choking,    sweltering,    deadly 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  37 

and  killing  rule  of  No-rnle  ;  the  consecration  of  cu- 
pidity, and  braying  folly,  and  dim  stupidity  and  base- 
ness, in  most  of  the  affairs  of  men?  Slop-shirts 
attainable  three-halfpence  cheaper,  by  the  ruin  of  liv- 
ing bodies  and  immortal  souls  ?  Solemn  Bishops 
and  high  Dignitaries,  our  divine  '  Pillars  of  Fire  by 
night,'  debating  meanwhile,  with  their  largest  wigs 
and  gravest  look,  upon  something  they  call  '  pre- 
venient  grace  ? '  Alas,  our  noble  men  of  genius. 
Heaven's  real  messengers  to  us,  they  also  rendered 
nearly  futile  by  the  wasteful  time;  —  preappointed 
they  everywhere,  and  assiduously  trained  by  all  their 
pedagogues  and  monitors,  to  'rise  in  Parliament,'  to 
compose  orations,  write  books,  or  in  short  speak" 
words,  for  the  approval  of  reviewers ;  instead  of 
doing  real  kingly  wor^k  to  be  approved  of  by  the 
gods  !  Our  '  Government,'  a  highly  '  responsible  ' 
one  ;  responsible  to  no  God  that  I  can  hear  of,  but  to 
the  twenty-seven  million  gods  of  the  shilling  gallery. 
A  Government  tumbling  and  drifting  on  the  whirl- 
pools and  mud-deluges,  floating  atop  in  a  conspicuous 
manner,  no-whither,  —  like  the  carcass  of  a  drowned 
ass.  Authentic  Chaos  come  up  into  this  sunny  Cos- 
mos again  ;  and  all  men  singing  Gloria  in  excelsis  to 
it.  In  spirituals  and  temporals,  in  field  and  workshop, 
from  Manchester  to  Dorsetshire,  from  Lambeth  Palace 
to  the  Lanes  of  Whitechapel,  wherever  men  meet  and 
toil  and  traffic  together,  —  Anarchy,  Anarchy  ;  and 
only  the  street-constable  (though  with  ever-increas- 
ing difficulty)  still  maintaining  himself  in  the  middle 
of  it  ;  that  so,  for  one  thing,  this  blessed  exchange  of 
slop-shirts  for  the  souls  of  women  may  transact  itself 
4 


38  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

in  a  peaceable  manner  !  —  I,  for  my  part,  do  profess 
myself  in  eternal  opposition  to  this,  and  discern  well 
that  universal  Ruin  has  us  in  the  wind,  unless  we 
can  get  out  of  this.  My  friend  Crabbe,  in  a  late 
number  of  his  Intermittent  Radiator ^  pertinently 
enough  exclaims : 

'  When  shall  we  have  done  with  all  this  of  British 
Liberty,  Voluiitary  Principle,  Dangers  of  Centraliza- 
tion, and  the  like?  It  is  really  getting  too  bad.  For 
British  Liberty,  it  seems,  the  people  cannot  be  taught 
to  read.  British  Liberty,  shuddering  to  interfere  with 
the  rights  of  capital,  takes  six  or  eight  miUions  of 
money  annually  to  feed  the  idle  laborer  whom  it  dare 
not  employ.  For  British  Liberty  we  live  over  poison- 
ous cesspools,  gully-drains,  and  detestable  abomina- 
tions ;  and  omnipotent  London  cannot  sweep  the  dirt 
out  of  itself  British  Liberty  produces — what? 
Floods  of  Hansard  Debates  every  year,  and  apparent- 
ly little  else  at  present.  If  these  are  the  results  of 
British  Liberty,  I,  for  one,  move  we  should  lay  it  on 
the  shelf  a  little,  and  look  out  for  something  other 
and  farther.  We  have  achieved  British  Liberty  hun- 
dreds of  years  ago  ;  and  are  fast  growing,  on  the 
strength  of  it,  one  of  the  most  absurd  populations  the 
Sun,  among  his  great  Museum  of  Absurdities,  looks 
down  upon  at  present.' 

Curious  enough  :  the  model  of  the  world  just  now 
is  England  and  her  Constitution  ;  all  Nations  striving 
towards  it ;  poor  France  swimming  these  last  sixty 
years  in  seas  ot'  horrid  dissolution  and  confusion,  reso- 
lute to  attain  this  blessedness  of  free  voting,  or  to  die 


THE    PRESENT    TIME. 


ill  chase  of  it.  Prussia  too,  solid  Cfermany  itself,  has 
all  broken  out  into  crackling  of  musketry,  loud 
pamphleteering  and  Frankfort  parliamenting  and  pala- 
verino-  ;  Germany  too  will  scale  the  sacred  mountains, 
how  steep  soever,  and,  by  talisman  of  ballot-box, 
inhabit  a  political  Elysium  henceforth.  All  the 
Nations  have  that  one  hope.  Very  notable  ;  and 
rather  sad  to  the  humane  onlooker.  For  it  is  sadly 
conjectured,  all  the  Nations  labor  somewhat  under  a 
mistake  as  to  England,  and  the  causes  of  her  freedom 
and  her  prosperous  cotton-spinning  ;  and  have  much 
misread  the  nature  of  her  Parliament,  and  the  effect 
of  ballot-boxes  and  universal-suffrages  there. 

What  if  it  were  because  the  English  Parliament 
was  from  the  first,  and  is  only  just  now  ceasing  to  be, 
a  Council  of  actual  Rulers,  real  Governing  Persons 
(called  Peers,  Mitred  Abbots,  Lords,  Knights  of  the 
Shire,  or  howsoever  called),  actually  riding  each  his 
section  of  the  country,  —  and  possessing  (it  must  be 
said)  in  the  lump,  or  when  assembled  as  a  Council, 
uncommon  patience,  devoutness,  probity,  discretion 
and  good  fortune,  —  that  the  said  Parliament  ever 
came  to  be  good  for  much  ?  In  that  case  it  will  not 
be  easy  to  '  imitate '  the  English  Parliament ;  and  the 
ballot-box  and  sufimge  will  be  the  mere  bow  of 
Robin  Hood,  which  it  is  given  to  very  few  to  bend,  or 
shoot  with  to  any  perfection.  And  if  the  Peers  become 
mere  big  Capitalists,  Railway  Directors,  gigantic 
Hucksters,  Kings  of  Scrip,  loithout  lordly  quality,  or 
other  virtue  except  cash;  and  the  Mitred  Abbots 
change  to  mere  Able-Editors,  masters  of  Parliamentary 
Eloquence,  Doctors  of  Political  Econcmy,  and  such- 


40  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

like  ;  and  all  have  to  be  elected  by  a  uni\rersal-suffrage 
ballot-box,  —  I  do  not  see  how  tlie  English  Parlia- 
ment itself  will  long  continue  sea-worthy !  Nay,  I 
find  England,  in  her  own  big  dnmb  heart,  wherever 
you  come  upon  her  in  a  silent  meditative  hour,  begins 
to  have  dreadful  misgivings  about  it. 

The  model  of  the  world,  then,  is  at  once  unattain- 
able by  the  world,  and  not  much  worth  attaining  ? 
England,  as  I  read  the  omens,  is  now  called  a  second 
time  to  "show  the  Nations  how  to  live  ;  "  for  by  her 
Parliament,  as  chief  governing  entity,  I  fear  she  is  not 
long  for  this  world  !  Poor  England  must  herself 
again,  in  these  new  strange  times,  the  old  methods 
being  quite  worn  out,  '  learn  how  to  live.'  That  now 
is  the  terrible  problem  for  England,  as  for  all  the 
Nations ;  and  she  alone  of  all,  not  yet  sunk  into  open 
Anarchy,  but  left  with  time  for  repentance  and  amend- 
ment; she,  wealthiest  of  all  in  material  resource,  in 
spiritual  energy,  in  ancient  loyalty  to  law,  and  in  the 
qualities  that  yield  such  loyalty,  —  she  perhaps  alone 
of  all  may  be  able,  with  huge  travail,  and  the  strain 
of  all  her  faculties,  to  accomplish  some  solution.  She 
will  have  to  try  it,  she  has  now  to  try  it ;  she  must 
accomplish  it,  or  ])erish  from  her  place  in  the  world! 

England,  as  I  persuade  myself,  still  contains  in  it 
many  kings ;  possesses,  as  Old  Rome  did,  many 
men  not  needing  'election 'to  command,  but  eter- 
nally elected  for  it  by  the  Maker  Himself.  Eng- 
land's one  hope  is  in  these,  just  now.  They  are 
among  the  silent,  I  believe  ;  mostly  far  away  from 
platforms  and  public  palaverings ;  not  speaking  forth 
the  image  of  their  nobleness  in  transitory  words,  but 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  41 

imprinting  it,  each  on  his  own  little  section  of  the 
world,  in  silent  facts,  in  modest  valiant  actions,  that 
will  endure  foreverniore.  They  must  sit  silent  no 
longer.  They  are  summoned  to  assert  themselves; 
to  act  forth,  and  articulately  vindicate,  in  the  teeth  of 
jiowling  multitudes,  of  a  world  too  justly  maddened 
into  all  manner  of  delirious  clamors,  what  of  wisdom 
they  derive  from  God.  England,  and  the  Eternal 
Voices,  summon  them  ;  poor  Englaiid  never  so  needed 
them  as  now.  Up,  be  doing  everywhere  :  the  hour 
of  crisis  has  verily  come !  In  all  sections  of  English 
life,  the  godmade  king  is  needed  ;  is  pressingly  de- 
manded in  most  ;  in  some,  cannot  longer,  without 
peril  as  of  conflagration,  be  dispensed  with.  He, 
wjieresoever  he  finds  himself,  can  say,  "  Here  too  am 
I  wanted  ;  here  is  the  kingdom  I  have  to  subjugate, 
and  introduce  God's  Laws  into,  —  God's  Laws,  in- 
stead of   Mammon's   and    M'Croudy's,  and  the  Old 

Anarch's  !     Here  is  my  work,  here  or  nowhere." 

Are  there  many  such,  who  will  answer  to  the  call,  in 
England  ?  It  turns  on  that,  whether  England,  rapid- 
ly crumbling  in  these  very  years  and  months,  shall 
go  down  to  the  Abyss  as  her  neighbors  have  all  done, 
or  survive  to  new  grander  destinies  withoiU  solution 
of  continuity!  Probably  the  chief  question  of  the 
world  at  present. 

The  true  'commander'  and  king:  he  who  knows 
for  himself  the  divine  Appointments  of  this  Universe, 
the  Eternal  Laws  ordained  by  God  the  Maker,  in  con- 
forming to  which  lies  victory  and  felicity,  in  departing 
from  which  lies,  and  forever  must  lie,  sorrow^and 
defeat,  for  each  and  all  of  the  Posterity  of  Adam  in 
4  * 


42  THE    PRESEITT    TIME. 

every  time  and  every  place ;  he  who  has  sworn  fealty 
to  these,  and  dare  alone  against  the  world  assert  these, 
and  dare  not  with  the  wirole  world  at  his  back  deflect 
from  these;  —  he,  I  know  too  well,  is  a  rare  man. 
Difficnlt  to  discover ;  not  quite  discoverable,  I  appre- 
hend, by  manoeuvring  of  ballot-boxes,  and  riddling  of 
the  popular  clamor  according  to  the  most  approved 
methods.  He  is  not  sold  at  any  shop  I  know  of, — 
though  sometimes,  as  at  the  sign  of  the  Ballot-box,  he 
is  advertised  for  sale.  Difficult  indeed  to  discover: 
and  not  very  much  assisted,  or  encouraged  in  late 
times,  to  discover  Idmself; — which,  I  think,  might 
be  a  kind  of  help?  Encouraged  rather,  and  com- 
manded in  all  ways,  if  he  be  wise,  to  Jiide  himself, 
and  give  place  to  the  windy  Counterfeit  of  himself; 
such  as  the  universal-suffrages  can  recognize,  such  as 
loves  the  most  sweet  voices  of  the  universal-suffrages  ! 
—  O  Peter,  what  becomes  of  such  a  People  ;  what  can 
become  ? 

Did  you  never  hear,  with  the  mind's  ear  as  well, 
that  fateful  Hebrew  Prophecy,  I  think  the  fatefullest 
of  all,  which  sounds  daily  through  the  streets,  "  Ou' 
clo  !  On'  clo  !  "  —  A  certain  People,  once  upon  a  time, 
clamorously  voted  by  overwhelming  majority,  '-Not 
he  ;  Barabbas,  not  he  !  Him,  and  what  lie  is,  and 
what  he  deserves,  we  know  well  enough  :  a  reviler  of 
the  Chief  Priests  and  sacn^d  Chancery  wigs  ;  a  sedi- 
tious Heretic,  physical-force  Chartist,  and  enemy  of 
his  country  and  mankind:  To  the  gallows  and  the 
cross  with  him  !  Barabbas  is  our  man  ;  Barabbas,  we 
are /or  Barabbas  !  "  They  got  Barabbas  :  —  have  you 
well  considered  what  a  fund  of  purblind  obduracy,  of 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  43 

oj)3.que  Jlmikey ism  grown  truculent  and  transcendent ; 
what  an  eye  for  the  phylacteries,  and  want  of  eye  for 
the  eternal  nobU^nesses  ;  sordid  loyalty  to  tiie  prosperous 
Semblances,  and  high-treason  agaiiist  the  Supreme 
Fact,  such  a  vote  betokens  in  these  natures  ?  For  it 
was  the  consummation  of  a  long  series  of  such  ;  they 
and  their  fathers  had  long  kept  voting  so.  A  singular 
People  ;  who  could  both  produce  such  divine  men, 
and  then  could  so  stone  and  crucify  them  :  a  People 
terrible  from  the  beginning!  —  Well,  they  got  Barab- 
bas  ;  and  they  got,  of  course,  such  guidance  as  Ba- 
rabbas  and  the  like  of  him  could  give  them;  and,  of 
course,  they  stumbled  ever  downwards  and  devil- 
wards,  in  their  truculent  stitfnecked  way;  and — and, 
at  this  hour,  after  eigliteen  centuries  of  sad  fortune, 
they  prophetically  sing  "  Ou' clo  ! "  in  all  the  cities 
of  the  world.  Might  the  world,  at  this  late  hour,  but 
take  note  of  them,  and  understand  their  song  a  little  ! — 
Yes,  there  are  some  things  the  universal-suftrage 
can  decide, — and  about  these  it  will  be  exceedingly 
useful  to  consult  the  universal-suffrage  :  but  in  regard 
to  most  things  of  importance,  and  in  regard  to  the 
choice  of  men  especially,  there  is  (astonishing  as  it 
may  seem)  next  to  no  capability  on  the  part  of  uni- 
versal-sutfrage. —  I  request  all  candid  persons,  who 
liave  never  so  little  originality  of  mind,  and  every  man 
has  a  little,  to  consider  this.  If  true,  it  involves  such 
a  change  in  our  now  fashionable  modes  of  procedure 
as  fills  me  with  astonishment  and  alarm.  If  popuku- 
suffrage  is  not  the  way  of  ascertaining  what  the  Laws 
of  the  Universe  are,  and  who  it  is  that  will  best  guide 
us  in  the  way  of  these,  —  then  woe  is  to  us  if  we  do 


44  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

not  take  another  method.  Delolme  on  the  British 
Constitution  will  not  save  us;  deaf  will  the  Parcse  be 
to  votes  of  the  House,  to  leading  articles,  constitu- 
tional philosophies.  The  other  method  —  alas,  it 
involves  a  stopping  short,  or  vital  change  of  direction, 
in  the  glorious  career  which  all  Europe,  with  shouts 
heaven-high,  is  now  galloping  along :  and  that,  hap- 
pen when  it  may,  will,  to  many  of  us,  be  probably  a 
rather  surprising  business  ! 

One  thing  I  do  know,  and  can  again  assert  Vv^ith 
great  confidence,  supported  by  the  whole  Universe, 
and  by  some  Two  Hundred  generations  of  men,  who 
have  left  us  some  record  of  themselves  there.  That  the 
few  Wise  will  have,  by  one  method  or  another,  to  take 
command  of  the  innumerable  Foolish  ;  that  they  must 
be  got  to  take  it ;  —  and  that,  in  fact,  since  Wisdom, 
which  means  also  Yalor  and  heroic  Nobleness,  is  alone 
strong  in  this  world,  and  one  wise  man  is  stronger  than 
all  men  unwise,  they  can  be  got.  That  they  must 
take  it;  and  having  taken,  must  keep  it,  and  do  their 
God's-Message  in  it,  and  defend  the  same,  at  their 
life's  peril,  against  all  men  and  devils.  This  I  do 
clearly  believe  to  be  the  backbone  of  all  Future  So- 
ciety, as  it  has  been  of  all  Past,;  and  that  without  it, 
there  is  no  Society  possible  in  the  Avorld.  And  what 
a  business  this  will  be,  before  it  end  in  some  degree 
of  victory  again,  and  whether  the  time  for  shouts  of 
triumph  and  tremendous  cheers  upon  it  is  yet  come, 
or  not  yet  by  a  great  way,  I  perceive  too  well  !  A 
business  to  make  us  all  very  serious  indeed.  A  busi- 
ness not  to  be  accomplished  but  by  noble  manhood, 
and  devout  all-daring,  all-enduring  loyalty  to  Heaven, 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  45 

such  as  fatally  sleeps  at  present,  —  such  as  is  not  dead 
at  present  eilfier,  unless  the  gods  have  doomed  this 
world  of  theirs  to  die  !  A  business  which  long  cen- 
turies of  faithful  travail  and  heroic  agon}^,  on  the 
part  of  all  the  noble  that  are  born  to  us,  will  not 
end  ;  and  which  to  us.  of  this  '  tremendous-cheering ' 
century,  it  were  blessedness  very  great  to  see  success- 
fully begun.  Begun,  tried  by  all  manner  of  methods, 
if  there  is  one  wise  Statesman  or  man  left  among  us, 
it  verily  must  be  ;  —  begun,  successfully  or  unsuccess- 
fully, we  do  hope  to  see  it ! 


In  all  European  countries,  especially  in  England, 
one  class  of  Captains  and  commanders  of  men,  recog- 
nizable as  the  beginning  of  a  new  real  and  not  im- 
aginary '  Aristocracy,'  has  already  in  some  measure 
developed  itself:  the  Captains  of  Industry  ;  —  happily 
the  class  who  above  all,  or  at  least  first  of  all,  are 
wanted  in  this  time.  In  the  doing  of  material  work, 
we  have  already  men  among  us  that  can  command 
bodies  of  men.  And  surely,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
is  no  lack  of  men  needing  to  be  commanded  :  the 
sad  class  of  brother  men  whom  we  had  to  describe  as 
'Hodge's  emancipated  horses.'  reduced  to  roving 
famine,  —  this  too  has  in  all  countries  developed 
itself;  and,  in  fatal  geometrical  progression,  is  ever 
more  developing  itself,  with  a  rapidity  which  alarms 
every  one.  On  this  ground,  if  not  on  all  manner  of 
other  grounds,  it  may  be  truly  said,  the  'Organiza- 
tion of  Labor  '  (not  organizable  by  the  mad  methods 


46  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

tried  hitherto)  is  the  universal  vital  Problem  of  the 
world. 

To  bring  these  hordes  of  outcast  captainless  sol- 
diers under  due  captaincy?  This  is  really  the  ques- 
tion of  questions;  on  the  answer  to  which  turns, 
among  other  things,  the  fate  of  all  Governments, 
constitutional  and  other, — the  possibility  of  their 
continuing  to  exist,  or  the  impossibility.  Cai)tainless, 
uncommanded,  these  wretched  outcast  '  soldiers,' 
since  they  cannot  starve,  must  needs  become  banditti, 
st^-eet-barricaders, — destroyers  of  every  Government 
that  cannot  put  them  under  captains,  and  send  them 
upon  enterprises,  and  in  short  render  life  human  to 
them.  Our  English  plan  of  Poor  I^aws,  which  we 
once  piqued  ourselves  upon  as  sovereign,  is  evidently 
fast  breaking  down.  Ireland,  now  admitted  into  the 
Idle  Workhouse,  is  rapidly  bursting  it  in  pieces. 
Tliat  never  was  a  'human'  destiny  for  any  honest 
son  of  Adam  ;  nowhere  but  in  England  could  it  have 
lasted  at  all  ;  and  now,  with  Ireland  sharer  in  it,  and 
the  fulness  of  time  come,  it  is  as  good  as  ended.  Alas, 
yes.  Here  in  Connemara,  your  crazy  Ship  of  the 
State,  otherwise  dreadfully  rotten  in  many  of  its  tim- 
bers I  believe,  has  sprung  a  leak  :  spite  of  all  hands  at 
the  pump,  the  water  is  rising ;  the  Ship,  I  perceive, 
will  founder  if  you  cannot  stop  this  leak  ! 

To  bring  these  Captainless  under  due  captaincy  ? 
The  anxious  thoughts  of  all  men  that  do  think  are 
turned  upon  that  question  ;  and  their  efforts,  tliough 
as  yet  blindly,  and  to  no  purpose,  under  the  multifari- 
ous impediments  and  obscurations,  all  point  thither- 
ward.    Isolated  men,  and  their  vague  eiibrts,  cannot 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  47 

doit.     Government  everywhere  is  called  upon, — in 
England  as  loudly  as  elsewhere,  — to  give  the  initia- 
tive.    A   new    strange  task  of   these    new    epoclis ; 
which  no  Government,  never  so   'constitutional,'  can 
escape  from  undertaking.     For  it  is  vitally  necessary 
to  the  existence  of  Society  itself;  it  must  be  under- 
taken, and  succeeded  in  too,  or  worse  will  follow,  — 
and,    as    we    already    see    in    Irish    Connaught   and 
some  other  places,   will  follow  soon.     To  whatever 
thing  still  calls  itself  by  the  name  of  Government, 
were  it  never  so  'constitutional   and  impeded  by  offi- 
cial  impossibilities,  all  men  will  naturally  look    for 
help,  and  direction  vvdiat  to  do,  in  this  extremity.     If 
help   or  direction  is  not  given  ;  if  the    thing    called 
Government  merely  drift  and  tumble  to  and  fro,  no- 
whither,  on  the  popular  vortexes,  like  some  carcass 
of  a  drowned  ass,  constitutionally  put  'at  the  top  of 
affairs,'  —  popular  indignation  will  infallibly  accumu- 
late upon  it  ;  one  day,  the  popular  lightning,  descend- 
ing   forked    and    horrible    from    the    black    air,    will 
annihilate  said  supreme  carcass,  and  smite  it  home  to 
its  native  ooze  again! — Your  Lordship,  this  is  too 
true,  though  irreverently  spoken :  indeed  one  knows  not 
how  to  speak  of  it ;  and  to  me  it  is  infinitely  sad  and 
miserable,  spoken  or  not  !  —  Unless  perhaps  the  Vol- 
utitary  Principle  will  still  help  us  through?     Perhaps 
this  Irish  leak,  in  such  a  rotten  distressed  condition- 
of  the  Ship,  with  all  the  crew  so  anxious  about  it, 
Y/ill  be  kind  enough  to  stop  of  itself?  — 

Dismiss  that  hope,  your  Lordship  !  Let  all  real 
and  imaginary  Governors  of  England,  at  the  pass  we 
have  arrived  at,  dismiss  forever  that  fallacious  fatal 


48  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

solace  to  their  donothingism :  of  itself,  too  clearly, 
the  leak  will  never  stop  ;  by  human  skill  and  energy 
it  must  be  stopped,  or  there  is  nothing  but  the  sea- 
bottom  for  us  all !  A  Chief  Governor  of  England 
really  ought  to  recognize  his  situation  ;  to  discern 
that,  doing  nothing,  and  merely  drifting  to  and  fro, 
in  however  constitutional  a  manner,  he  is  a  squan- 
derer of  precious  moments,  moments  that  perhaps  are 
priceless;  a  truly  alarming  Chief  Governor.  Surely, 
to  a  Chief  Governor  of  England,  worthy  of  that  high 
name,  —  surely  to  him,  as  to  every  living  man,  in 
every  conceivable  situation  short  of  the  Kingdom  of 
the  Dead, —  there  is  something  possible;  some  plan 
of  action  other  than  that  of  standing  mildly,  v/ith 
crossed  arms,  till  he  and  we  —  sink  ?  Complex  as  his 
situation  is,  he,  of  all  Governors  now  extant  among 
these  distracted  Nations,  has,  as  I  compute,  by  far  the 
greatest  possibilities.  The  Captains,  actual  or  poten- 
tial, are  there,  and  the  million  Captaiidess  ;  and  such 
resources  for  bringing  them  together  as  no  other  has. 
To  these  outcast  soldiers  of  his,  unregimented  roving 
banditti  for  the  present,  or  unworking  workhouse 
prisoners  who  are  almost  uglier  than  banditti ;  to 
these  floods  of  Irish  Beggars,  Able-bodied  Paupers, 
and  nomadic  Lackalls,  now  stagnating  or  roaming 
everywhere,  drowning  the  face  of  the  world  (too 
truly)  into  an  untentable  swamp  and  Stygian  quag- 
mire, has  the  Chief  Governor  of  this  country  no  word 
whatever  to  say?  Nothing  but  ''Rate  in  aid," 
"  Time  will  mend  it,"  "  Necessary  business  of  the 
Session  ;  "  and  "  After  me  the  Delnge  ?  "  A  Chief 
Governor    that   can   front    his    Irish    difficulty,    and 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  49 

Steadily  contemplate  the  horoscope  of  Irish  and  Brit- 
ish Pauperism,  and  whitherward  it  is  leading  him 
and  us,  in  this  humor,  must  be  a  —  What  shall  we 
call  such  a  Chief  Governor  ?  Alas,  in  spite  of  old  use 
and  wont,  —  little  other  than  a  tolerated  Solecism, 
growing  daily  more  intolerable  !  He  decidedly  ought 
to  have  some  word  to  say  on  this  matter, — to  be 
incessantly  occupied  in  getting  something  which  he 
could  practically  say  ! — Perhaps  to  the  following,  or 
a  much  finer  eifect  ? 


Speech  of  the  British  Prime  Minister  to  the  floods 
of  Irish  and  other  Beggars,  the  able-bodied  LackallSj 
7iotnadic  or  stationary,  and  the  General  Assembly, 
outdoor  and  indoor,  of  the  Pauper  Populations  of 
these  Realms. 

'<  Vagrant  Lackalls,  foolish  most  of  you,  criminal 
many  of  you,  miserable  all ;  the  sight  of  you  fills  me 
with  astonishment  and  despair.  What  to  do  with  you 
I  know  not ;  long  have  I  been  meditating,  and  it  is 
hard  to  tell.  Here  are  some  three  millions  of  you, 
as  I  count :  so  many  of  you  fallen  sheer  over  into  the 
abysses  of  open  Beggary ;  and,  fearful  to  think,  every 
new  unit  that  falls  is  loading  so  much  more  the  chain 
that  drags  the  others  over.  On  the  edge  of  the  pre- 
cipice hang  uncounted  millions;  increasing,  I  am 
told,  at  the  rate  of  1200  a-day.  They  hang  there  on 
the  giddy  edge,  poor  souls,  cramping  themselves 
down,  holding  on  with  all  their  strength  ;  but  falling, 
falling   one  after  another  ;  and  the  chajn  is  getting 


60  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

heavy ^  so  that  ever  more  fall ;  and  who  at  last  wili 
stand!  What  to  do  with  you?  The  question, 
What  to  do  with  you?  especially  since  the  potato 
died,  is  like  to  break  my  heart  ! 

''One  thing,  after  much  meditating,  I  have  at  last 
discovered,  and  now  know  for  some  time  back  :  That 
you  cannot  be  left  to  roam  abroad  in  this  ungnided 
manner,  stumbling  over  the  precipices,  and  loading 
ever  heavier  the  fatal  chain  upon  those  who  might  be 
able  to  stand  ;  that  this  of  locking  you  up  in  tem- 
porary Idle  Workhouses,  when  you  stumble,  and 
subsisting  you  on  Indian  meal,  till  you  can  sally  forth 
again  on  fresh  roamings,  and  fresh  stumblings,  and 
ultimate  descent  to  the  devil; — that  this  is  not  the 
plan ;  and  that  it  never  was,  or  could  out  of  England 
have  been  supposed  to  be,  much  as  I  have  prided 
myself  upon  it  ! 

"  Yagrant  Lackalls,  I  at  last  perceive,  all  this  that 
*has  been  sung  and  spoken,  for  a  long  while,  about 
enfranchisement,  emancipation,  freedom,  suffrage,  civil 
and  religious  liberty  over  the  world,  is  little  other 
than  sad  temporary  jargon,  brought  upon  us  by  a 
stern  necessity, — but  now  ordered  by  a  sterner  to 
take  itself  away  again  a  little.  Sad  temporary  jargon, 
I  say  ;  made  up  of  sense  and  nonsense,  —  sense  in 
small  quantities,  and  nonsense  in  very  large  ;  —  and, 
if  taken  for  the  whole  or  permanent  truth  of  human 
things,  it  is  no  better  than  fatal  infinite  nonsense 
eternally  untrue.  All  men,  I  think,  will  soon  have 
to  quit  this,  to  consider  this  as  a  thing  pretty  well 
achieved ;  and  to  look  out  towards  another  thing 
much  more  needing  achievement  at  the  time  that 
now  is. 


THE    PRESENT    Ti:.IE.  51 

"All  men  will  have  to  quit  it,  I  believe.  But  to 
you,  my  indigent  friends,  the  time  for  quitting  it  has 
palpably  arrived  !  To  talk  of  glorious  self-govern- 
ment, of  suffrages  and  hustings,  and  the  fight  of  free- 
dom and  suchlike,  is  a  vain  thing  in  your  case.  By 
all  human  definitions  and  conceptions  of  the  said  fight 
of  freedom,  you  for  your  part  have  lost  it,  and  can 
fight  no  more.  Glorious  self-government  is  a  glory 
not  for  you,  — not  for  Hodge's  emancipated  horses, 
nor  you.  No  ;  I  say.  No.  You,  for  your  part,  have 
tried  it,  -dudi  failed.  Left  to  walk  your  own  road,  the 
will-o'-wisps  beguiled  you,  your  short  sight  could  not 
descry  the  pitfalls  ;  the  deadly  tumult  and  press  has 
whirled  you  hither  and  thither,  regardless  of  your 
struggles  and  your  shrieks ;  and  here  at  last  you  lie  ; 
fallen  flat  into  the  ditch,  drowning  there  and  dying, 
unless  the  others  that  are  still  standing  please  to  pick 
you  up.  The  others  that  still  stand  have  their  own 
difficulties,  I  can  tell  you  !  —  But  you,  by  imperfect 
energy  and  redundant  appetite,  by  doing  too  little 
work  and  drinking  too  much  beer,  you  (I  bid  you 
observe)  have  proved  that  you  cannot  do  it  !  You 
lie  there  plainly  in  the  ditch.  And  I  am  to  pick  you 
up  again,  on  these  mad  terms  ;  help  you  ever  again, 
as  with  our  best  heart's  blood,  to  do  what,  once  for 
all,  the  gods  have  made  impossible?  To  load  the 
fatal  chain  with  your  perpetual  staggerings  and 
sprawlings ;  and  ever  again  load  it,  till  we  all  lie 
sprawling?  My  indigent  incompet<nU  friends,  I  will 
not  !  Know  that,  whoever  may  be  '  sons  of  freedom,^ 
you  for  your  part  are  not  and  cannot  be  such.  Not 
'  free  '  you,  I  think,  whoever  may  be  free.     You  pal- 


52  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

pably  are  fallen  captive,  —  caitiffs  as  they  once  named 
it  :  —  you  do,  silently  but  eloquently,  demand,  in  the 
name  of  mercy  itself,  that  some  genuine  command  be 
taken  of  you. 

"Yes,  my  indigent  incompetent  friends ;  some 
genuine  practical  commancl.  Such,  —  if  I  rightly 
interpret  those  mad  Chartisms,  Repeal  Agitations, 
Red  Republics,  and  other  delirious  inarticulate,  bowl- 
ings and  bellowings  which  all  the  populations  of  the 
world  now  utter,  evidently  cries  of  pain  on  their  and 
your  part,  — is  the  demand  which  you,  Captives,  make 
of  all  men.  that  are  not  Captive,  but  are  still  Free. 
Free  men,  —  alas,  had  you  ever  any  notion  who  the 
free  men  were,  who  the  not-free,  the  incapable  of 
freedom  !  The  free  men,  if  you  could  have  under- 
stood it,  they  are  the  wise  men ;  the  patient,  self- 
denying,  valiant ;  the  Nobles  of  the  World  ;  who 
can  discern  the  Law  of  this  Universe,  what  it  is,  and 
piously  obey  it  :  these,  in  late  sad  times,  having  cast 
you  loose,  you  are  fallen  captive  to  greedy  sons  of 
profit -an  d-1  OSS ;  to  bad  and  ever  to  worse;  and  at 
length  to  Beer  and  the  Devil.  Algiers,  Brazil  or 
Dahomey  hold  nothing  in  them  so  authentically  slave 
as  you  are,  my  indigent  incompetent  friends  ! 

*'  Good  Heavens,  and  I  have  to  raise  some  eight  or 
nine  millions  annually,  six  for  England  itself,  and  to 
wreck  the  morals  of  my  working  population  beyond 
all  money's  worth,  to  keep  the  life  from  going  out  of 
you  :  a  small  service  to  you,  as  I  many  times  bitterly 
repeat!  Alas,  yes;  before  high  Heaven  I  must  de- 
clare it  such.  I  think  the  old  Spartans,  who  would 
have  killed  you  instead,  had  shown  more  '  humanity/ 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  53 

more  of  manhood,  than  I  thus  do  !  More  humanity, 
I  sa}^,  more  of  manhood,  and  of  sonse  for  what  the 
dignity  of  man  demands  imperatively  of  ynn  and  of 
me  and  of  us  all.  We  call  it  charity,  bei:ieficence, 
and  other  fine  names,  this  brutish  Workhouse  Scheme 
of  ours  ;  and  it  is  but  sluggish  heartlessness,  and 
insincerity,  and  cowardly  lowness  of  soul.  Not 
'humanity'  or  manhood,  1  think;  perhaps  apehood 
rather.  —  paltry  iniitancy,  from  the  teeth  outward, 
of  what  our  lieart  never  felt  nor  oit?-  understand insr 
ever  saw ;  dim  indolent  adherence  to  extraneous 
hearsays  and  extinct  traditions:  traditions  now  really 
about  extinct;  not  living  now  to  almost  any  of  us, 
and  still  haunting  with  their  spectralities  and  gibber- 
ing ghosfs  (in  a  truly  baleful  manner)  almost  all  of 
us!  Making  this  our  struggling  'Twelfth  Hour  ol 
the  Night'  inexpressibly  hideous!  — 

"  But  as  for  you,  my  indigent  incompetent  friends, 
I  have  to  repeat  with  sorrow,  but  with  perfect  clear- 
ness, what  is  plainly  undeniable,  and  is  even  clamor- 
ous to  get  itself  admitted,  that  you  are  of  the  nature 
of  slaves,  —  or  if  you  prefer  the  word,  of  nomadic, 
and  now  even  vagrant  and  vagabond,  servants  that 
can  find  no  master  on  those  terms ;  which  seems  to 
me  a  much  uglier  word.  -  Emancipation  ?  You  have 
been  'emancipated'  with  a  vengeance!  Foolish 
souls,  I  say  the  whole  world  cannot  emancipate  you. 
Fealty  to  ignorant  Unruliness,  to  gluttonous  sluggish 
[mprovidence,  to  the  Beerpot  and  the  Uevil,  who  is 
there  that  can  emancipate  a  nian  in  that  predica- 
ment ?  Not  a  whole  Reform  Bill,  a  whole  French 
Revolution  executed  for  his  behoof  alone :  nothing 
5* 


54  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

but  God  the  Maker  can  emancipate  him,  by  making 
him  anew. 

"  To  forward  which  glorious  consummation,  will  it 
not  be  well,  O  indigent  friends,  that  you,  fallen  flat 
there,  shall  henceforth  learn  to  take  advice  of  others 
as  to  the  methods  of  standing?  Plainly  I  let  you 
know,  and  all  the  world  and  the  worlds  know,  that  I 
for  my  part  mean  it  so.  Not  as  glorious  unfortunate 
sons  of  freedom,  but  as  recognized  captives,  as  unfor- 
tunate fallen  brothers  requiring  that  I  should  com- 
mand yon,  and  if  need  were,  control  and  compel 
you,  can  there  henceforth  be  a  relation  between  us. 
Ask  me  not  for  Indian  meal ;  you  shall  be  compelled 
to  earn  it  first ;  know  that  on  other  terms  I  will  not 
give  you  an}^.  Before  Heaven  and  Earth,  and  God 
the  Maker  of  us  all,  I  declare  it  is  a  scandal  to  see 
such  a  life  kept  in  you,  by  the  sweat  and  heart's- 
blood  of  your  brothers  ;  and  that,  if  we  cannot  mend 
it,  death  were  preferable  !  Go  to,  we  must  get  out 
of  this  unutterable  coil  of  nonsenses,  constitutional, 
philanthropical  &c..  in  which  (surely  without  mutual 
hatred,  if  with  less  of  '  love  '  than  is  supposed)  we 
are  all  strangling  one  another !  Your  want  of  wants, 
I  say,  is  that  you  be  commanded  in  this  world,  not 
being  able  to  command  yourselves.  Know  therefore 
that  it  shall  be  so  with  you.  Nomadism,  I  give  you 
notice,  has  ended ;  needful  permanency,  soldierlike 
obedience,  and  the  opportunity  and  the  necessity  of 
hard  steady  labor  for  your  living,  have  begun.  Know 
that  the  Idle  Workhouse  is  shut  against  you  hence- 
forth ;  you  cannot  enter  there  at  will,  nor  leave  at 
will;  —  you  shall  enter  a  quite  other  Refuge,  under 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  DO 

conditions  strict  as  soldiering,  and  not  leave  till  I 
have  done  with  you.  He  that  prefers  the  glorious 
(or  perhaps  even  the  rebellions  27iglorions)  '  career  of 
freedom,'  let  him  prove  that  he  can  travel  there,  and 
be  the  master  of  himself;  and  right  good  speed  to 
him.  He  wjio  has  proved  that  he  cannot  travel 
there,  or  be  the  master  of  himself,  —  let  him,  in  the 
name  of  all  the  gods,  become  a  servant,  and  accept 
the  just  rules  of  servitude  ! 

"  Arise,  enlist  in  my  Irish,  my  Scotch  and  English 
'Regiments  of  the  New  Era,'  —  which  I  have  been 
concoctmg,  da)?-  and  night,  during  these  three  Grouse- 
seasons  (taking  earnest  incessant  counsel,  with  all  man- 
ner of  Industrial  Notabilities  and  men  of  insight,  on  the 
matter),  and  have  now  brought  to  a  kind  of  prepara- 
tion for  incipiency,  thank  Heaven  !  Enlist  there,  ye 
poor  wandering  banditti;  obey,  work,  suffer,  abstain, 
as  all  of  us  have  had  to  do  :  so  shall  you  be  helped  to 
gain  a  manful  living  for  yourselves;  not  otherwise 
than  so.  Industrial  Regiments"  —  [Here  mwierous 
persons^  loith  hig  loigs  many  of  them^  and  austere 
aspect,  luhoni  I  take  to  he  Professors  of  the  Dismal 
Science,  start  zip  in  an  agitated  vehement  mariner  : 
hut  the  Premier  resolutely  heckons  them  down  again] 
— "  Regiments  not  to  fight  the  French  or  others,  who 
are  peaceable  enough  towards  us  ;  but  to  fight  the 
Bogs  and  Wildernesses  at  home  and  abroad,  and  to 
chain  the  Devils  of  the  Pit  which  are  walking  too 
openly  among  us. 

'•  Work,  for  you  ?  Work,  surely,  is  not  quite  undis- 
coverable  in  an  Earth  so  wide  as  ours,  if  we  will  take 
the  U2\\i  methods  for  it  !     Indigent  friends,  we  will 


66  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

adopt  this  new  relation  (which  is  old  as  the  Avorld); 
this  will  lead  us  towards  such.  Rigorous  conditions, 
not  to  be  violated  on  either  side,  lie  in  this  relation  ; 
conditions  planted  there  by  God  Himself ;  which 
woe  will  betide  us  if  we  do  not  discover,  gradually 
more  and  more  discover,  and  conform  to !  Industrial 
Colonels,  Workmasters,  Taskmasters,  Life-command- 
ers, equitable  as  Rhadamanthns  and  inflexible  as  he  : 
such,  I  perceive,  you  do  need  ;  and  such,  you  being 
once  put  under  law  as  soldiers  are,  will  be  discoverable 
for  you.  I  perceive,  with  boundless  alarm,  that.  I 
shall  have  to  set  about  discovering  such, — I,  since  I 
am  at  the  top  of  affairs,  with  all  men  looking  to  me. 
Alas,  it  is  my  new  task  in  this  New  Era  ;  and  God 
knows  I  too,  little  other  than  a  redtape  Talking- 
machine  and  unhappy  Bag  of  Parliamentary  Elo- 
quence hitherto,  am  far  behind  with  it !  But  street- 
barricades  rise  everywhere :  the  hour  of  Fate  has 
come.  In  Connemara  there  has  sprung  a  leak,  since 
the  potato  died  ;  Connaught,  if  it  were  not  for  Treas- 
ury-grants and  rates-in-aid,  would  have  to  recur  to  Can- 
nibalism even  now,  and  Human  Society  would  cease 
to  pretend  that  it  existed  there.  Done  this  thing  must 
be.  Alas,  I  perceive  that  if  I  cannot  do  it,  then  surely 
I  shall  die,  and  perhaps  shall  not  have  Christian  burial ! 
But  I  already  raise  near  upon  Ten  Millions  for  feeding 
you  in  idleness,  my  nomadic  friends;  work,  under  due 
regulations,  I  really  might  try  to  get  off" — [Here 
arises  indescrihahlc  uproar,  no  longer  repressible,  from 
all  manner  of  l^conomis/s,  JSnunidpafionisls,  Con- 
slitutionalists,  and  ^niscellaneons  Professors  of  the 
Dismal  Science,  pretty  nuvierouslt/  scattered  about ; 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  57 

and  cries  of  "  Private  Enterprise^'*''  ''  Rights  of 
Capital^''^  "  Voluntanj  Principle^''  "  Doctrines  of  the 
British  Constitution,''^  swollen  hij  the  general  assent- 
ing Jiuni  of  all  the  world,  quite  droivn  tJie  Chief 
Minister  for  a  ivhile.  He,  ivitli  invincible  resolution, 
persists  ;  obtains  hearing  again  ;] 

"  Respectable  Professors  of  the  Dismal  Science, 
soft  you  a  little  !  Alas,  I  know  what  you  would  say. 
For  my  sins,  I  have  read  much  in  those  inimitable 
volnmes  of  yours,  — really  I  should  think,  some  bar- 
rowfuls  of  them  in  my  time; — and,  in  these  last 
forty  years  of  theory  and  practice,  have  pretty  well 
seized  what  of  Divine  Message  you  were  sent  with 
to  me.  Perhaps  as  small  a  message,  give  me  leave  to 
say,  as  ever  there  was  such  a  noise  made  about  before. 
Trust  me,  I  have  not  forgotten  it,  shall  never  forget 
it.  Those  Laws  of  the  Shop-till  are  indisputable  to 
me;  and  practically  useful  in  certain  departments  of 
the  Universe,  as  the  multiplication-table  itself  Once 
I  even  tried  to  sail  through  the  Immensities  with 
them,  and  to  front  the  big  coming  Eternities  with 
them  ;  but  I  found  it  would  not  do.  As  the  Supreme 
Rule  of  Statesmanship,  or  Government  of  Men. — 
since  this  Universe  is  not  wholly  a  Shop, — no. 
You  rejoice  in  my  improved  tariffs,  free-trade  move- 
ments, and  the  like,  on  every  hand  ;  for  which  be 
thankful,  and  even  sing  litanies  if  you  choose.  But 
here  at  last,  in  the  Idle-Workhouse  movement,  — 
unexampled  yet  on  Earth  or  in  the  waters  under  the 
Earth.  —  I  am  fairly  brought  to  a  stand  ;  and  have 
had  to  make  reflections,  of  the  most  alarming,  and 
indeed  awful,  and  as  it  were  religious  nature  !     Pro- 


58  THE    PRESE]ST    TIME. 

fessors  of  the  Dismal  Science,  I  perceive  that  the 
length  of  your  tether  is  now  pretty  well  run  ;  and 
that  I  must  request  you  to  talk  a  little  lower  in  future. 
By  the  side  of  the  shop-till, — see,  your  small  'Law  of 
God  '  is  hung  Uj),  along  with  tlie  niultiplication-tahle 
itself.  But  beyond  and  above  the  shop-till,  allow  me 
to  say,  you  shall  as  good  as  hold  your  peace.  Re- 
spectable Professors,  I  perceive  it  is  not  now  the  Gi- 
gantic Hucksters,  but  it  is  the  Immortal  Gods,  yes 
they,  in  their  terror  and  their  beauty,  in  their  wrath 
and  their  beneficence,  that  are  coming  into  play  in  the 
affairs  of  this  world  !  Soft  you  a  little.  Do  not  you 
interrupt  me,  but  try  to  tmderstand  and  help  me  !  — 

—  "Work,  was  I  saying  ?  My  indigent  unguided 
friends,  I  should  think  some  work  might  be  dis- 
coverable for  you.  Enlist,  stand  drill  ;  become,  from 
a  nomadic  Banditti  of  Idleness,  Soldiers  of  Industry! 
I  will  lead  you  to  the  Irish  Bogs,  to  the  vacant  deso- 
lations of  Connaught  now  falling  into  Cannibalism  ; 
to  mistilled  Connaught,  to  ditto  Muuster,  Leinster, 
Ulster,  I  will  lead  you :  to  the  English  fox-covers, 
furze-grown  Commons,  New  Forests,  Salisbury  Plains : 
likewise  to  the  Scotch  Hill-sides,  and  bare  rushy 
slopes,  Avhich  as  yet  feed  only  sheep,  —  moist  uplands, 
thousands  of  square  miles  in  extent,  which  are  des- 
tined yet  to  grow  green  crops,  and  fresh  butter  and 
milk  and  beef  without  limit  (wherein  no  '  Foreigner 
can  compete  with  us '),  were  the  Glasgow  sewers 
once  opened  on  them,  and  you  with  your  Colonels 
carried  thither.  In  the  Three  Kingdoms,  or  in  the 
Forty  Colonies,  depend  upon  it,  you  shall  be  led  to 
your  work  ! 


THE    PRESENT    TIME.  59 

*'  To  each  of  you  I  will  then  say  :  Here  is  work 
for  you  ;  strike  into  it  with  manlike,  soldierlike  obe- 
dience and  heartiness,  according  to  the  methods  here 
prescribed,  —  wages  follow  for  you  without  difficulty  ; 
all  manner  of  just  remuneration,  and  at  length  eman- 
cipation itself  follows.  Refuse  to  strike  into  it  ;  shirk 
the  heavy  labor,  disobey  the  rules,  —  I  will  admonish 
and  endeav^or  to  incite  you  ;  if  in  vain,  I  will  flog 
you;  if  still  in  vain,  I  will  at  last  shoot  yon,  —  and 
make  God's  Earth,  and  the  forlorn-hope  in  God's 
Battle,  free  of   you.     Understand  it,    I    advise  you  ! 

The  Organization  of  Labor  " \^Lteft  speaking,  says 

our  reporter.] 

'  Left  speaking : '  alas,  that  he  should  have  to 
*  speak  '  so  much  !  There  are  things  that  should  be 
done,  not  spoken  ;  that  till  the  doing  of  them  is 
begun,  cannot  well  be  spoken.  He  may  have  to 
'  speak  '  seven  years  yet,  before  a  spade  be  struck 
into  the  Bog  of  Allen  ;  and  then  perhaps  it  will  be 
too  late  !  — 

You  perceive,  my  friends,  we  have  actually  got 
into  the  '  New  Era  '  there  has  been  such  prophesying 
of;  here  we  all  are,  arrived  at  last ;  —  and  it  is  by  no 
means  the  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey  we  were 
led  to  expect !  Very  much  the  reverse.  A  terrible 
new  country  this  :  no  neighbors  in  it  yet,  that  I  can 
see,  but  irrational  flabby  monsters  (philanthropic  and 
other)  of  the  giant  species  ;  hyaenas,  laughing  hyaenas, 
predatory  wolves;  probably  r/6?2;z7s,  blue  (or  perhaps 
blue-and-yellow)  devils,  as  St.  Guthlac  found  in  Croy- 
land  long  ago.  A  huge  untrodden  haggard  country, 
the  '  chaotic  battlefield  of  Frost  and  P'ire  ; '  a  country 


60  THE    PRESENT    TIME. 

of  savage  glaciers,  granite-mountains,  of  foul  jungles, 
unhewed  forests,  quaking  bogs  ;  —  which  we  shall 
have  our  own  ados  to  make  arable  and  habitable,  I 
think!  We  must  stick  by  it,  however;  —  of  all 
enterprises  the  impossiblest  is  that  of  getting  out  of 
it,  and  shifting  into  another.  To  work,  then,  one 
and  all  •  hands  to  work ! 


MODEL    PRISONS. 


The  deranged  condition  of  our  affairs  is  a  universal 
topic  among  men  at  present ;  and  the  heavy  miseries 
pressing,  in  their  rudest  shape,  on  the  great  dumb 
inarticulate  class,  and  from  this,  by  a  sure  law, 
spreading  upwards,  in  a  less  palpable  but  not  less 
certain  and  perhaps  still  more  fatal  shape  on  all 
classes  to  the  very  highest,  are  admitted  everywhere 
to  be  great,  increasing  and  now  almost  unendurable. 
How  to  diminish  them,  —  this  is  every  man's  ques- 
tion. For  in  fact  they  do  imperatively  need  diminu- 
tion ;  and  unless  they  can  be  diminished,  there  are 
many  other  things  that  cannot  very  long  continue  to 
exist  beside  them.  A  serious  question  indeed,  How 
to  diminish  them  ! 

Among  the  articulate  classes,  as  they  may  be  called, 
there  are  two  ways  of  proceeding  in  regard  to  this. 
One  large  body  of  the  intelligent  and  influential, 
busied  mainly  in  personal  affairs,  accepts  the  social 
iniquities,  or  whatever  you  may  call  them,  and  the 
miseries  consequent  thereupon;  accepts  them,  admits 
them  to  be  extremely  miserable,  pronounces  them 
entirely  inevitable,  incurable  except  by  Heaven,  and 
eats  its  pudding  with  as  little  thought  of  them  as 
6 


62  MODEL    PRISONS. 

possible.  Not  a  very  noble  class  of  citizens  these  ; 
not  a  very  hopeful  or  salutary  method  of  dealing  with 
social  iniquities  this  of  theirs,  however  it  may  answer 
in  respect  to  tlremselves  and  their  personal  affairs  ! 
But  now  there  is  the  select  small  minority,  in  whom 
some  sentiment  of  public  spirit  and  human  pity  still 
survives,  among  whom,  or  not  anywhere,  the  Good 
Cause  may  expect  to  find  soldiers  and  servants ;  their 
method  of  proceeding,  in  these  times,  is  also  very 
strange.  They  embark  in  the  '  philanthropic  move- 
ment ;  '  they  calculate  that  the  miseries  of  the  world 
can  be  cured  by  bringing  the  philanthropic  movement 
to  bear  on  them.  To  universal  public  misery,  and 
universal  neglect  of  the  clearest  public  duties,  let 
private  charity  superadd  itself;  there  will  thus  be 
some  balance  restored,  and  maintained  again;  thus, — 
or  by  what  conceivable  method?  On  these  terms 
they,  for  their  part,  embark  in  the  sacred  cause  ;  reso- 
lute to  cure  a  world's  woes  by  rose-water  ;  desperately 
bent  on  trying  to  the  uttermost  that  mild  method. 
It  seems  not  to  have  struck  these  good  men  that  no 
world,  or  thing  here  below,  ever  fell  into  misery,  with- 
out having  first  fallen  into  folly,  into  sin  against  the 
Supreme  Ruler  of  it,  by  adopting  as  a  law  of  conduct 
what  was  not  a  law,  but  the  reverse  of  one  ;  and  that, 
till  its  folly,  till  its  sin  be  cast  out  of  it,  there  is  not 
the  smallest  hope  of  its  misery  going,  —  that  not  for 
all  the  charity  and  rose-water  in  the  world,  will  its 
misery  try  to  go  till  then! 

This  is  a  sad  error;  all  the  sadder  as  it  is  the  error 
chiefly  of  the  more  humane  and  noble-minded  of  our 
generation  ;  among  whom,  as  we  said,  or  elsewhere 


MODEL    PRISONS.  63 

not  at  all,  the  cause  of  real  Reform  must  expect  its 
servants.  At  present,  and  for  a  long  while  past,  what- 
soever young  soul  awoke  in  England  with  some  dis- 
position towards  generosity  and  social  heroism,  or  at 
lowest  with  some  intimation  of  the  beauty  of  such 
a  disposition,  —  he,  in  whom  the  poor  world  might 
have  looked  for  a  reformer,  and  valiant  mender  of  its 
foul  ways,  was  almost  sure  to  become  a  Philan- 
thropist, reforming  merely  by  this  rose-water  method. 
To  admit  that  the  world's  ways  are  foul,  and  not  the 
ways  of  God  the  Maker,  but  of  Satan  the  Destroyer, 
many  of  them,  and  that  they  must  be  mended  or  we 
all  die  ;  that  if  huge  misery  prevails,  huge  cowardice, 
falsity,  disloyalty,  universal  Injustice  high  and  low, 
have  still  longer  prevailed,  and  must  straightway  try 
to  cease  prevailing  :  this  is  what  no  visible  reformer 
has  yet  thought  of  doing.  All  so-called  '-reforms'' 
hitherto  are  grounded  either  on  openly-admitted  ego- 
ism (cheap  bread  to  the  cotton-spinner,  voting  to 
those  that  have  no  vote,  and  the  like,)  which  does 
not  point  towards  very  celestial  developments  of  the 
Reform  movement ;  or  else  upon  this  of  remedying 
social  injustices  by  indiscriminate  contributions  of 
philanthropy,  a  method  surely  still  more  unpromising. 
Such  contributions,  being  indiscriminate,  are  but  a 
new  injustice  ;  these  will  never  lead  to  reform,  or 
abolition  of  injustice,  Avhatever  else  they  lead  to  ! 

Not  by  that  method  shall  we  '  get  round  Cape 
Horn,'  by  never  such  unanimity  of  voting,  under 
the  most  approved  Phantasm  Captains  !  It  is  mis- 
erable to  see.  Having,  as  it  were,  quite  lost  our  way 
round  Cape   Horn,  and   being   sorely  '  admonished  * 


64  MODEL    PRISONS. 

by  the  Iceberg  and  other  dumb  councillors,  the  pilots, 
instead  of  taking  to  their  sextants,  and  asking  with 
a  seriousness  unknown  for  a  long  while,  What  the 
Laws  of  wind  and  water,  and  of  Earth  and  of  Heaven 
are, — decide  that  now,  in  these  new  circumstances, 
they  will,  to  the  worthy  and  unworthy,  serve  out  a 
double  allowance  of  grog.  In  this  way  they  hope  to 
do  it,  —  by  steering  on  the  old  wrong  tack,  and  serv- 
ing out  more  and  more  copiously  what  little  aquavitcB 
may  be  still  on  board  !  Philanthropy,  emancipation, 
and  pity  for  human  calamity  is  very  beautiful ;  but 
the  deep  oblivion  of  the  Law  of  Right  and  Wrong  ; 
this  'indiscriminate  mashing  up  of  Right  and  Wrong 
into  a  patent  treacle  '  of  the  Philanthropic  movement, 
is  by  no  means  beautiful ;  this,  on  the  contrary,  is 
altogether  ugly  and  alarming. 

Truly  if  there  be  not  something  inarticulate  among 
us,  not  yet  uttered  but  pressing  towards  utterance, 
which  is  much  wiser  than  anything  we  have  lately 
articulated  or  brought  into  word  or  action,  our  out- 
looks are  rather  lamentable.  The  great  majority  of 
the  powerful  and  active-minded,  sunk  in  egoistic 
scepticisms,  busied  in  chase  of  lucre,  pleasure,  and 
mere  vulgar  objects,  looking  with  indiflference  on 
the  world's  woes,  and  passing  carelessly  by  on  the 
other  side  ;  and  the  select^  minority,  of  whom  better 
might  have  been  expected,  bending  all  their  strength 
to  cure  them  by  methods  which  can  only  make  bad 
worse,  and  in  the  end  render  cure  hopeless.  A  blind 
loquacious  pruriency  of  indiscriminate  Philanthropism 
substituting  itself,  with  much  self-laudation,  for  the 
silent  divinely  awful  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong ;  tes- 


MODEL    PRISONS.  65' 

tifying  too  clearly  that  here  is  do  longer  a  divine  sense 
of  Right  and  Wrong  ;  that,  in  the  smoke  of  this  uni- 
versal, and  alas  inevitable  and  indispensable  revoki- 
tionary  fire,  and  burning  up  of  worn-out  rags  of 
whicli  the  world  is  fall,  our  life  atmosphere  has  (for 
the  time)  become  one  vile  London  fog,  and  the  eter- 
nal load-stars  are  gone  out  for  us  !  Gone  out  ;  yet 
very  visible  if  3'ou  can  get  above  the  fog  ;  still  there 
in  their  place,  and  quite  the  same  as  they  always 
were  !  To  whoever  does  still  know  of  load-stars, 
the  proceedings,  which  expand  themselves  daily,  of 
these  sublime  philanthropic  associations,  and  '  uni- 
versal slnggard-and-scoundrel  protection  societies,' 
are  a  perpetual  affliction.  With  their  emancipations 
and  abolition-principles,  and  reigns  of  brotherhood 
and  new  methods  of  love,  they  have  done  great 
things  in  the  White  and  in  the  Black  world,  during 
late  years  ;  and  are  preparing  for  greater. 

In  the  interest  of  human  reform,  if  there  is  ever  to 
be  any  reform,  and  return  to  prosperity  or  to  the  pos-. 
sibility  of  prospering,  it  is  urgent  that  the  nonsense 
of  all  this  (and  it  is  mostly  nonsense,  but  not  quite) 
should  be  sent  about  its  business  straightway,  and 
forbidden  to  deceive  the  well-meaning  souls  among 
us  any  more.  Reform,  if  we  will  understand  that 
divine  word,  cannot  begin  till  then.  One  day,  I  do 
know,  this,  as  is  the  doom  of  all  nonsense,  will  be 
drummed  out  of  the  world,  with  due  placard  stuck 
on  its  back,  and  the  populace  flinging  dead  cats  at  it  ; 
but  whether  soon  or  not,  is  by  no  means  so  certain. 
I  rather  guess,  not  at  present,  not  quite  soon.  Fra- 
ternity, in  other  countries,  has  gone  on,  till  it  found 
6* 


66  MODEL    PRISONS. 

itself  unexpectedly  manipulating  guillotines  by  its 
chosen  Robespierres,  and  become  a  fraternity  like 
Cain's.  Much  to  its  amazement  !  For  in  fact  it  is 
not  all  nonsense  ;  there  is  an  infinitesimal  fraction  of 
sense  in  it  withal ;  which  is  so  difficult  to  disen- 
gage;—  Avhich  must  be  disengaged,  and  laid  hold 
of,  before  Fraternity  can  vanish. 

But  to  our  subject,  —  the  Model  Prison,  and  the 
strange  theory  of  life  now  in  action  there.  That, 
for  the  present,  is  my  share  in  the  wide  adventure 
of  Philanthropism  ;  the  world's  share,  and  how  and 
when  it  is  to  be  liquidated  and  ended,  rests  with  the 
Supreme  Destinies. 

Several  months  ago,  some  friends  took  me  with 
them  to  see  one  of  the  London  Prisons  ;  a  Prison  of 
the  exemplary  or  model  kind.  An  immense  circuit 
of  buildings  ;  cut  out,  girt  with  a  high  ring-wall, 
from  the  lanes  and  streets  of  the  quarter,  which  is  a 
dim  and  crowded  one.  Gateway  as  to  a  fortified 
place  ;  then  a  spacious  court,  like  the  square  of  a 
city  ;  broad  staircases,  passages  to  interior  courts ; 
fronts  of  stately  architecture  all  round.  It  lodges 
some  thousand  or  twelve-hundred  prisoners,  besides 
the  officers  of  the  establishment.  Surely  one  of  the 
most  perfect  buildings,  within  the  compass  of  Lon- 
don. We  looked  at  the  apartments,  sleeping-cells, 
dining-rooms,  working-rooms,  general  courts  or  special 
and  private;  excellent  all,  the  ne-plus-ultra  of  human 
care  and  ingenuity  ;  in  my  life  I  never  saw  so  clean 
a  building  ;  probably  no  Duke  in  England  lives  in  a 
mansion  of  such  perfect  and  thorough  cleanness. 

The  bread,  the  cocoa,  soup,  meat,  all  the  various 


MODEL    PRISONS. 


67 


sorts  of  food,  in  their  rospective  cooking-places,  we 
tasted  ;  found  them  of  excellence  superlative.     The 
prisoners  sat  at  work,  light  work,  picking  oaknm,  and 
tlie  like,  in  airy  apartments  with  glass-roofs,  of  agree- 
able   temperature  and   perfect  ventilation  ;    silent,  or 
at  least  conversing  only  by  secret  signs;   others  were 
out,  taking  their  hour  of  promenade  in  clean  flagged 
courts;  methodic  composure,  cleanliness,  peace,  sub- 
stantial wliolesome  comfort   reigned  everywhere  su- 
preme.   The  vromen  in  other  apartments,  some  notable 
murderesses  among  them,  all  in  the  like  state  of  me- 
thodic composure  and  substantial  wholesome  comfort, 
sat  sewiiig  ;  in  long  ranges  of  wash-houses,  drying- 
houses  and  whatever   pertains  to  the  getting  up  of 
clean  linen,  were  certain  others,  with  all  conceivable 
mechanical   furtherances,  not  too  arduously  working. 
The   notable   murderesses  were,   though    with   great 
precautions  of  privacy,  pointed  out  to  us  ;    and  we 
were  requested  not  to  look  openly  at  them,  or  seem 
to  notice  them  at  all,  as  it  was  found  to  'cherish  their 
vanity,'  when  visitors  looked  at  them.     Schools  too, 
were  there;  intelligent  teachers  of  both  sexes,  studi- 
.  ously  instructing  the  still  ignorant  of  these  thieves. 
From  an  inner  upper  room  or  gallery,  we  looked 
down  into  a  range  of  private  courts,  where  certain 
Chartist    Notabilities    were    undergoing    their    term. 
Chartist   Notability  First   struck   me   very  much  ;    I 
had   seen    him   about   a  year  before,  by  involuntary 
accident  and  nuich  to  my  disgust,  magnetizing  a  silly 
young  [jcrson  ;  and  had  noted  well   the  unlovely  vo- 
racious look  of  him,  his  thick  oily  skin,  his  heavy 
dull-burning    eyes,    his    greedy    mouth,    the    dusky, 


68  MODEL    PRISONS. 

potent  insatiable  animalism  that  looked  out  of  every 
feature  of  him  ;  a  fello^v  adequate  to  animal-magnetize 
most  tilings,  I  did  suppose ;  and  here  was  the  post  I 
now  found  him  arrived  at.  Next  neighbor  to  him 
was  Notability  Second,  a  philosophic  or  literary 
Chartist ;  walking  rapidly  to  and  fro  in  his  private 
court,  a  clean  high-walled  place  ,*  the  world  and  its 
cares  quite  excluded,  for  some  months  to  come ; 
master  of  his  own  time  and  spiritual  resources  to, 
as  I  supposed,  a  really  enviable  extent.  What  '  lit- 
erary man '  to  an  equal  extent !  I  fancied  I,  for  my 
own  part,  so  left  with  paper  and  ink,  and  all  taxes  and 
botherations  shut  out  from  me,  could  have  written 
such  a  book  as  no  reader  will  here  ever  get  of  me. 
Never,  O  reader,  never  here  in  a  mere  house  with 
taxes  and  botherations.  Here,  alas,  one  has  to  snatch 
one's  poor  book,  bit  by  bit,  as  from  a  conflagration  ; 
and  to  think  and  live,  comparatively,  as  if  the  house 
were  not  one's  own,  but  mainly  the  world's  and  the 
devil's.  Notability  Second  might  have  filled  one  with 
envy. 

The  Captain  of  the  place,  a  gentleman  of  ancient 
Military  or  Royal-Navy  habits,  was  one  of  the  most 
perfect  governors ;  professionally  and  by  nature  zeal- 
ous for  cleanliness,  punctuality,  good  order  of  every 
kind  ;  a  humane  heart  and  yet  a  strong  one ;  soft  of 
speech  and  manner,  yet  with  an  inflexible  rigor  of 
command,  so  far  as  his  limits  went :  '  iron  hand  in  a 
velvet  glove,'  as  Napoleon  defined  it.  A  man  of  real 
worth,  challenging  at  once  love  and  respect ;  the  light 
of  those  mild  bright  eyes  seemed  to  permeate  the  place 
as  with  an  all-pervading  vigilance,  and  kindly  yet  vie- 


MODEL    PRISONS.  69 

torious  illumination  ;  in  the  soft  definite  voice  it  was 
as  if  nature  herself  were  promulgating  her  orders, 
gentlest  mildest  orders,  which  however,  in  the  end, 
there  would  be  no  disobeying,  which  in  the  end 
there  would  be  no  living  without  fulfilment  of.  A 
true  'aristos,'  and  commander  of  men.  A  man 
worthy  to  have  commanded  and  guided  forward,  in 
good  ways,  twelve-hundred  of  the  best  common  peo- 
ple in  London  or  the  world  ;  he  was  here,  for  many 
years  past,  giving  all  his  care  and  faculty  to  com- 
mand, and  guide  forward  in  such  ways  as  there  were, 
twelve-hundred  of  the  worst.  I  looked  with  consid- 
erable admiration  on  this  gentleman  ;  and  with  con- 
siderable astonishment,  the  reverse  of  admiration,  on 
the  work  he  had  here  been  set  upon. 

This  excellent  Captain  was  too  old  a  Commander 
to  complain  of  anything;  indeed  he  struggled  visibly 
the  other  way,  to  find  in  his  own  mind  that  all  here 
was  best ;  but  I  could  sufficiently  discern  that,  in  his 
natural  instincts,  if  not  mounting  up  to  the  region  of 
his  thoughts,  there  was  a  continual  protest  going  on 
against  much  of  it  ;  that  nature  and  all  his  inarticu-, 
late  persuasion  (however  much  forbidden  to  articulate 
itself)  taught  him  the  futility  and  unfeasibility  of  the 
system  followed  here.  The  Visiting  Magistrates,  he 
[gently  regretted  rather  than  complained,  had  lately 
taken  his  treadwheel  from  him,  men  were  just  now 
pulling  it  down  ;  and  how  he  was  henceforth  to  en- 
force discipline  on  these  bad  subjects,  was  much  a 
difficulty  with  him.  "  They  cared  for  nothing  but 
the  treadwheel,  and  for  having  their  rations  cut 
short:*'    of  the  two  sole  penalties,  hard  work  and 


70  MODEL    PRISONS. 

occasional  hunger,  there  remained  now  only  one,  and 
that  by  no  means  the  better  one,  as  he  thought.  The 
'sympathy'  of  visitors,  too,  their  'pity'  for  his  inter- 
esting scoundrel-subjects,  though  he  tried  to  like  it, 
was  evidently  no  joy  to  this  practical  mind.  Pity, 
yes  :  —  but  pity  for  the  scoundrel-species  ?  For  these 
who  will  not  have  pity  on  themselves,  and  will  force 
the  Universe  and  the  Laws  of  nature  to  have  no  '  pity' 
on  them?  Meseems  I  could  discover  fitter  objects  of 
pity! 

In  fact  it  was  too  clear,  this  excellent  man  had  got 
a  field  for  his  faculties  which,  in  several  respects,  was 
by  no  means  the  suitable  one.  To  drill  twelve-hundred 
scoundrels  by  '  the  method  of  kindness,'  and  of  abol- 
ishing your  very  tread  wheel, — how  could  any  com- 
mander rejoice  to  have  such  a  work  cut  oat  for 
him  ?  You  had  but  to  look  in  the  faces  of  these 
twelve-hundred,  and  despair,  for  most  part,  of  ever 
*  commanding '  them  at  all.  Miserable  distorted 
blockheads  the  generality  :  ape-faces,  imp-faces,  an- 
gry dog-faces,  heavy  sullen  ox-faces ;  degraded  un- 
derfoot perverse  creatures,  sons  of  mdocility,  greedy 
mutinous  darkness,  and  in  one  word,  of  stupidity, 
which  is  the  general  mother  of  such.  Stupidity 
intellectual  and  stupidity  moral  (for  the  one  always 
means  the  other,  as  you  will,  with  surprise  or  not, 
discover  if  you  look)  had  borne  this  progeny  :  base- 
natured  beings,  on  whom  in  the  course  of  a  maleficent 
subterranean  life  of  London  Scoundrelism,  the  Genius 
of  Darkness  (called  Satan,  Devil  and  other  names) 
had  now  visibly  impressed  his  seal,  and  had  marked 
them  out  as  soldiers  of  Chaos  and  of  him, — appointed 


MODEL    miSONS.  71 

to  serve  in  his  Regiments.  First  of  the  line,  Second 
ditto,  and  so  on  in  their  order.  Him,  yon  could  per- 
ceive, they  would  serve  ;  but  not  easily  another  than 
him.  These  were  the  subjects  whom  our  brave  Cap- 
tain and  Prison-Governor  was  appointed  to  command, 
and  reclaim  to  other  service,  by  '  the  method  of  love,'  ;  ^ 
with  a  treadwheel  abolished. 

Hopeless  forevermore  such  a  project.  These  ab-  , 
ject,  ape,  wolf,  ox,  imp  and  other  diabolic-animal 
specimens  of  humanity,  who  of  the  very  gods  could 
ever  have  commanded  them  by  love  ?  A  collar  rounds 
the  neck,  and  a  cartwhip  flourished  over  the  back  ; 
these,  in  a  just  and  steady  human  hand,  were  what 
the  gods  would  have  appointed  them ;  and  now 
when,  by  long  misconduct  and  neglect,  they  had 
sworn  themselves  into  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the 
line,  and  got  the  seal  of  Chaos  impressed  on  their 
visage,  it  was  very  doubtful  whether  even  these 
would  be  of  avail  for  the  unfortunate  commander 
of  Twelve-hundred  men!  By  'love,'  without  hope 
except  of  peaceably  teasing  oakum  or  fear  excef)t  of 
a  temporary  loss  of  dinner,  he  was  to  guide  these  men, 
and  wisely  constrain  them,  —  whitherward  ?  No- 
whither:  that  was  his  goal,  if  you  will  think  well 
of  it ;  that  was  a  second  fundamental  falsity  in  his 
problem.  False  in  the  warp  and  false  in  the  woof, 
thought  one  of  us  ;  about  as  false  a  problem  as  any 
I  have  seen  a  good  man  set  upon  lately!  To  guide 
scoundrels  by  '  love  ; '  that  is  a  false  woof,  I  take  it, 
a  method  that  will  not  hold  together ;  hardly  for  the 
flower  of  men  will  love  alone  do  ;  and  for  the  sedi- 
ment and  scoundrelism  of  men  it  has  not  even  a 


*73  MODEL    PRISONS. 

chance  to  do.  And  then  to  guide  an}^  class  of  men, 
scoundrel  or  other,  Noivhither,  which  was  this  poor 
Captaiu's  problem,  in  this  Prison  with  oakum  for  its 
one  element  of  hope  or  outlook,  how  can  that  prosper 
by  'love'  or  by  any  conceivable  method?  That  is 
a  warp  wholly  false.  Out  of  which  false  warp,  or 
originally  false  condition  to  start  from,  combined  atid 
daily  woven  into  by  your  false  woof,  or  methods  of 
'  love'  and  suchlike,  there  arises  for  our  poor  Captain 
the  falsest  of  problems,  and  for  a  man  of  his  faculty 
the  unfairest  of  situations.  His  problem  was  not  to 
command  good  men  to  do  something,  but  bad  men  to 
do  (with  superficial  disguises)  nothing. 

On  the  whole,  what  a  beautiful  establishment  here 
fitted  up  for  the  accommodation  of  the  scoundrel- 
world  male  and  female  !  As  I  said,  no  Duke  in  Eng- 
land is,  for  all  rational  purposes  which  a  human  being 
can  or  ought  to  aim  at,  lodged,  fed,  tended,  taken 
care  of  witli  such  perfection.  Of  poor  craftsmen  that 
pay  rates  and  taxes  from  their  day's  wages,  of  the  dim 
millions  that  toil  and  moil  continually  under  the  sun, 
we  know  what  is  the  lodging  and  the  tending.  Of 
the  Johnsons,  Goldsmiths,  lodged  in  their  squalid  gar- 
rets ;  working  often  enough  amid  famine,  darkness, 
tumult,  dust  and  desolation,  what  work  they  have  to 
do;  —  of  these  as  of  'spiritual  backwoodsmen,"  un- 
derstood to  be  pre-appointed  to  such  a  life,  and  like 
the  pigs  to  killing,  '  quite  used  to  it,'  I  say  nothing. 
But  of  Dukes,  which  Duke,  I  could  ask,  has  cocoa, 
SOU]),  meat,  and  food  iu  general  made  ready,  so  fit'for 
keeping  him  in  health,  in  ability  to  do  and  to  enjoy  ? 
Which  Duke  has  a  house. so  thoroughly  clean,  pure 


MODEL    PRISONS.  -  73 

and  airy  ;  lives  in  an  element  so  wholesome,  and 
perfectly  adapted  to  the  uses  of  soul  and  body  as  this 
same,  which  is  provided  here  for  the  Devil's  regi- 
ments of  the  line  ?  No  Diike  tliat  I  have  ever  known. 
Dukes  are  waited  on  by  deleterious  French  cooks,  by 
perfunctory  grooms  of  the  chambers,  and  expensive 
crowds  of  eye-servants,  more  imaginary  than  real  : 
while  here.  Science,  Human  Intellect  and  Beneficence 
have  searched  and  sat  studious,  eager  to  do  their  very 
best  ;  they  have  chosen  a  real  Artist  in  Governing  to 
see  their  best,  in  all  details  of  it,  done.  Happy  reg- 
iments of  the  line,  what  soldier  to  any  earthly  or 
celestial  Power  has  such  a  lodging  and  attendance  as 
you  here  ?  No  soldier  or  servant  direct  or  indirect  of 
God  or  of  man,  in  this  England  at  present.  Joy  to 
you,  regiments  of  the  line.  Your  master,  I  am  told, 
has  his  Elect,  and  professes  to  be  'Prince  of  the 
Kingdoms  of  this  World  ;  '  and  truly  I  see  he  has 
power  to  do  a  good  turn  to  those  he  loves,  in  Eng- 
land at  least.  Shall  we  say,  May  he,  may  the  Devil 
give  you  good  of  it,  ye  Elect  of  Scoundrelism  ?  I 
will  rather  pass  by,  uttering  no  prayer  at  all  ;  musing 
ratl*er  in  silence  on  the  singular  '  worship  of  God,' 
or  practical  '  reverence  done  to  Human  Worth  ' 
(which  is  the  outcome  and  essence  of  all  real  'wor- 
ship' whatsoever)  among  the  Posterity  of  Adam  at 
this  day. 

For  all  round  this  beautiful  Establishment,  or 
Oasis  of  Purity  ititended  for  the  Devil's  regiments  of 
the  line,  lay  continents  of  dingy  poor  and  dirty 
dwellings,  where  the  unfortunate  not  yet  enlisted 
into    that    Force    were    struggling    manifoldly,  —  in 


74  MODEL    PRISONS. 

their  workshops,  in  their  marble-yards  and  timber- 
yards  and  tan-yards,  in  their  close-cellars,  cobbler- 
stalls,  hungry  garrets,  and  poor  dark  trade-shops  with 
redherrings  and  tobacco-pipes  crossed  in  the  window, 

—  to  keep  the  Devil  out  of  doors,  and  not  enlist  with 
him.  And  it  was  by  a  tax  on  these  that  the  Barracks 
for  the  regiments  of  the  line  were  kept  up.  Visiting 
Magistrates,  impelled  by  Exeter  Hall,  by  Able- 
Editors,  and  the  Philanthropic  Movement  of  the 
Age,  had  given  orders  to  that  effect.  Rates  on  the 
poor  servant  of  God  and  of  her  Majesty,  V\^ho  still 
serves  both  in  his  way,  painfully  selling  redherrings  ; 
rates  on  him  and  his  redherrings,  to  boil  right  soup 
for  the  Devil's  declared  Elect  !  Never  in  my  travels, 
in  any  age  or  clime,  had  I  fallen  in  with  such  Yisit- 
ing  Magistrates  before.  Reserved  they,  I  should 
suppose,  for  these  ultimate  or  penultimate  ages  of  the 
world,  rich  in  all  prodigies,  political,  spiritual,  — ages 
surely  with  such  a  length  of  ears  as  was  never  paral- 
leled before. 

If  I  had  a  commonwealth  to  reform  or  to  govern, 
certainly  it  should  not  be  the  Devil's  regiments  of 
the  line  that  I  would  first  of  all  concentrate  my 
attention  on  !  With  them  I  should  be  apt  to  make 
rather  brief  work;  to  them  one  would  apply  the 
b(3som,  try  to  sweep  them  with  some  rapidity  into 
the  dust-bin,  and  well  out  of  one's  road,  I  should 
rather  say.  Fill  your  thrashing-floor  Avith  docks, 
rag-weeds,  mug  worths,  and  ply  your  flail  upon  them, 

—  that  is  not  the  method  to  obtain  sacks  of  wheat. 
Away,  you  ;  begone  swiftly,  ye  regiments  of  the 
line:  in  the  name  of  God  and  of  his  poor  gtruggling 


MODEL    PRISONS.  75 

servants,  sore  put  to  it  to  live  in  these  bad  days,  I 
mean  to  rid  myself  of  you  with  some  degree  of 
brevity.  To  feed  you  in  palaces,  to  hire  captains 
and  schoolmasters  and  the  choicest  spiritnal  and 
material  artificers  to  expend  their  indnstries  on  yon, 
—  No,  by  the  Eternal  !  I  have  quite  other  work  for 
that  class  of  artists  ;  Seven  and  Twenty  Millions  of 
neglected  mortals  who  have  not  yet  qnite  declared 
for  the  devil.  Mark  it,  my  diabolic  friends,  I  mean 
to  lay  leather  on  the  backs  of  you,  collars  ronnd  the 
uecks  of  you  ;  and  will  teach  yon,  after  the  exam- 
ple of  the  gods,  that  this  v/orld  is  not  yonr  inheritance, 
or  glad  to  see  you  in  it.  Yon,  ye  diabolic  canaille, 
what  has  a  Governor  much  to  do  with  you  ?  You, 
I  think,  he  will  rather  swiftly  dismiss  from  his 
thonglits,  —  which  have  the  whole  celestial  and  ter- 
restrial for  their  scope,  and  not  the  snbterranean  of 
sconndreldom  alone.  You,  I  consider,  he  will  sweep 
pretty  rapidly  into  some  Norfolk  Island,  into  some 
special  convict  Colony  or  remote  domestic  moorland, 
into  some  stone-walled  Silent-System,  under  hard 
drill-sergeants,  just  as  Rhadamanthns,  and  inflexible 
as  he,  and  there  leave  you  to  reap  what  you  have 
sown  ;  he  meanwhile  turning  his  endeavors  to  the 
thousandfold  immeasurable  interests  of  men  and 
gods,  —  dismissing  the  one  extremely  contemptible 
interest  of  scoundrels  ;  sweeping  that  into  the  cess- 
pool, tumbling  that  over  London  Bridge,  in  a  very 
brief  manner,  if  needful !  Who  are  you,  ye  thriftless 
sweepings  of  Creation,  that  we  should  forever  be 
pestered  with  you  ?  Have  we  no  work  to  do  but 
drilling  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line? 


76  MODEL    PRISONfe. 

If  I  had  schoolmasters,  my  benevolent  friend,  do 
you  imagine  I  would  set  them  on  teaching  a  set  of 
imteachables,  who,  as  you  perceive,  have  already 
made  up  their  mind  that  black  is  white,  —  that  the 
Devil  namely  is  the  advantageous  Master  to  serve  iti 
this  world  ?  My  esteemed  Benefactor  of  Humanity, 
it  shall  be  far  from  me.  Minds  open  to  that  particu- 
lar conviction  are  not  the  material  I  like  to  work 
upon.  When  once  my  schoolmasters  have  gona 
over  all  the  other  classes  of  society,  from  top  to 
bottom  ;  and  have  no  other  soul  to  try  with  teaching, 
all  being  tlioroughly  taught,  —  I  will  then  send  them 
to  operate  on  these  regiments  of  the  line  ;  then,  and, 
assure  yourself,  never  till  then.  The  truth  is,  I  am 
sick  of  scoundreldom,  my  esteemed  Benefactor  ;  it 
always  was  detestable  to  me  ;  and  here  where  I  find 
it  lodged  in  palaces  and  waited  on  by  the  benevolent 
of  the  world,  it  is  more  detestable,  not  to  say  insuf- 
ferable to  me  than  ever. 

Of  Beneficence,  Benevolence,  and  the  people  that 
come  together  to  talk  on  platforms  and  subscribe  five 
pounds,  I  will  say  nothing  here  ;  indeed  there  is  not 
room  here,  for  tlie  twentieth  part  of  what  were  to  be 
said  of  them.  The  beneficence,  benevolence,  and 
sublime  virtue  which  issues  in  eloquent  talk  reported 
in  the  Newspapers,  with  the  subscription  of  five 
pounds,  and  the  feeling  that  one  is  a  good  citizen  and 
ornament  to  society,  —  concerning  this,  there  were  a 
great  many  unexpected  remarks  to  be  made ;  but  let 
this  Dne,  for  the  present  occasion,  suffice : 

My  sublime  benevolent  friends,  don't  you  perceive, 
for  cue  thing,  that  here   is  a  shockingly  unfruitful 


MODEL    PRISONS.  77 

investment  for  your  capital  of  Benevolence  ;  precisely 
the  luorst,  indeed,  which  human  ingenuity  could 
select  for  you  ?  "  Laws  are  unjust,  temptations 
great,"  c^c,  6cq,.  :  alas,  I  know  it,  and  monrn  for  it, 
and  passionately  call  on  all  men  to  help  in  altering  it. 
But  accordiijg  to  every  hypothesis  as  to  the  law,  and 
the  temptations  and  pressures  towards  vice,  here  are 
the  individuals  who,  of  all  the  society,  have  yielded 
to  said  pressuie.  These  are  of  the  worst  substance 
for  enduring  pressure  !  The  others  yet  stand  and 
make  resistance  to  temptation,  to  the  law's  injustice  ; 
under  all  the  perversities  and  strangling  impediments 
there  are.  the  rest  of  the  society  still  keep  then'  feet 
and  struggle  forward,  marching  under  the  banner  of 
Cosmos,  of  God  and  Human  Virtue  ;  these  select 
Few.  as  I  explain  to  you,  are  they  who  have  fallen 
to  Chaos,  and  are  sworn  into  certain  regiments  of 
the  line.  A  superior  proclivity  to  Chaos  is  declared 
in  these,  by  the  very  fact  of  their  being  here  !  Of 
all  the  generation  we  live  in,  these  are  the  worst 
stuff.  These,  I  say,  are  the  Elixir  of  the  Infatuated^ 
among  living  mortals  :  if  you  want  the  icorst  invest- 
ment for  your  Benevolence,  here  you  accurately  have 
it.  O  my  surprising  friends  !  Nowhere  so  as  here 
can  you  be  certain  that  a  given  quantity  of  wise 
teaching  bestowed,  of  benevolent  trouble  taken,  will 
yield  zero,  or  the  net  minimum  of  return.  It  is 
sowing  of  your  wheat  upon  Irish  quagmires  ;  labori- 
ously harrowing  it  in  upon  the  sand  of  the  sea-shore. 
O  my  astonishing  benevolent  friends  ! 

Yonder,  in  those  dingy  habitations,  and  sliops  of 

redherring  and  tobacco-pipes,   where   men  have  not 
7* 


78  MODEL    PRISONS. 

yet  quite  declared  for  the  Devil  ;  there,  I  say,  is  land  ; 
liere  is  mere  sea-beach.  Thither  go  with  yoar  be- 
nevolence, thither  to  those  dingy  caverns  of  the  poor  ; 
and  there  instruct  and  drill  and  manage,  there  where 
some  fruit  may  come  from  it.  And,  above  all  and 
inclusive  of  all,  cannot  you  go  to  those  Solemn 
human  Shams,  Phantasm  Captains,  and  Supreme 
Quacks  that  ride  prosperously  in  every  thoroughfare  ; 
and  with  severe  benevolence,  ask  theni,-  What  they 
are  doing  here  ?  They  are  the  men  whom  it  would 
behove  you  to  drill  a  little,  and  'tie  to  the  halberts  in 
a  benevolent  manner,  if  you  could  !  ''  We  cannot,"' 
say  you  ?  Yes,  my  friends,  to  a  certain  extent  you  , 
can.  By  many  well-known  active  methods,  and  by 
all  manner  of  passive  methods,  you  can.  Strive 
thitherward,  I  advise  you  ;  thither,  with  whatever 
social  effect  there  may  lie  in  you  !  The  wellhead, 
and  '  consecrated  '  thrice-accursed  chief  fountain  of 
all  those  waters  of  bitterness,  —  it  is  they,  those 
Solemn  Shams  and  Supreme  Quacks  of  yours,  little 
as  they  or  you  imagme  it?  Them,  with  severe 
benevolence,  put  a  stop  to  ;  them  send  to  their 
Father,  far  from  the  sight  of  the  true  and  just,  —  if 
you  would  ever  see  a  just  world  here  ! 

AVhat  sort  of  reformers  and  workers  are  you,  that 
^\lork  only  on  the  rotten  material  ?  That  never  think 
of  meddling  with  the  material  while  it  continues 
s,ound,  that  stress  it  and  strain  it  with  newrates  and 
assessments,  till  once  it  has  given  way  and\ declared 
^itself  rotten  ;  whereupon  you  snatch  greedily  at  it, 
and  say.  Now  let  us  try  to  do  some  good  upon  it ! 
You  mistake  in  every  way,  my  friends :  the  fact  is, 


MODEL    PRISONS.  79 

you  fancy  yourselves  men  of  virtue,  benevolence, 
what  not  ;  and  yon  are  not  even  men  of  sincerity, 
and  honest  sense.  1  grieve  to  say  it  ;  but  it  is  true. 
Good  from  you  and  your  operations  is  not  to  be 
expected.     You  may  go  down  ! 


Howard  i^  a  beautiful  Philanthropist,  eulogized  by 
l^urke,  and  in  most  men^s  minds  a  sort  of  beatified 
individnal.  How  glorioiis,  having  finished  off  one's 
'aflairs  in  Bedfordshire,  or  in  fact  finding  them  very 
dull,  inane,  and  worthy  of  being  quitted  and  got  away 
from,  to  set  out  on  a  cruise  over  the  Jails  first  of 
Britain ;  then  finding  that  answer,  over  the  Jails  of  the 
habitable  Globe  !  '  A  voyage  of  discovery,  a  circum- 
navigation of  charity ;  to  collate  distresses,  to  gauge 
wretchedness,  to  take  the  dimensions  of  human  mis- 
ery ; '  really  it  is  very  fine.  Captain  Cook's  voyage 
for  the  Terra  Australis,  Ross's,  Franklin's  for  the 
ditto  Borealis  :  men  make  various  cruises  and  voy- 
ages in  this  world,  —  for  want  of  money,  want  of 
work,  and  one  or  the  other  want,  —  which  are  at- 
tended with  their  difficulties  too,  and  do  not  make 
the  cruiser  a  demigod.  On  the  whole,  I  have  myself 
nothing  but  respect,  comparatively  speaking,  for  the 
dull  solid  Howard,  and  his  '  benevolence,'  and  otiier 
impulses  that  set  him  cruising:  Heaven  had  grown 
weary  of  Jail-fevers,  and  other  the  like  ?/?/jnst  pen- 
alties inflicted  upon  scoundrels,  —  for  scoundrels  too. 
and  even  the  very  Devil,  should  not  have  more  than 
their  due  ;  —  and  Heaven,  in  its  opulence,  created.a 


80  MODEL    PRISO?^». 

man  to  make  an  end  of  that.  Created  him  ;  dis- 
gusted him  with  the  grocer  business  ;  tried  him  with 
Calvinism,  rural  ennui,  and  sore  bereavement  in  his 
Bedfordshire  retreat  ;  —  and,  in  short,  at  last  got  him 
set  to  his  work,  and  in  a  condition  to  achieve  it. 
For  which  1  am  thankful  to  Heaven  ;  and  do  also, 
with  doffed  hat,  humbly  salute  John  Howard.  A 
practical  solid  man,  if  a  dull  and  even  dreary  ;  'car- 
ries his  weighing-scales  in  his  pocket :  '  when  your 
jailer  answers,  "The  prisoner's  allowance  of  food  is 
so  and  so  ;  and  we  observe  it  sacredly  ;  here,  for 
example,  is  a  ration,"  —  "Hey!  A  ration  this?" 
and  solid  John  suddenly  produces  his  weighing- 
scales  ;  weighs  it,  marks  down  in  his  tablets  what 
the  actual  quantity  of  it  is.  That  is  the  art  and 
manner  of  the  man.  A  man  full  of  English  accu- 
racy ;  English  veracity,  solidity,  simplicity;  by 
whom  this  universal  Jail  commission,  not  to  be  paid 
for  in  money  but  far  otherwise,  is  set  about,  with  all 
the  slow  energy,  the  patience,  practicahty,  sedulity 
and  sagacity  common  to  the  best  English  commis- 
sioners paid  in  money  and  not  expressly  otherwise. 

For  it  is  the  glory  of  England  that  she  has  a  turn 
for  fidelity  in  practical  work  ;  that  sham-workers, 
though  very  numerous,  are  rarer  tlian  elsewhere  ; 
that  a  man  who  undertakes  work  for  you  will  still, 
in  various  provinces  of  our  ail'aiis,  do  it,  instead  of 
merely  seeming  to  do  it.  John  Howard,  without 
pay  in  money,  did  this  of  the  Jail-fever,  as  other 
Englishmen  do  work  in  a  truly  workmanlike  man- 
ner :  his  distinction  was  that  he  did  it  without 
money.     He  had  not  £500  or  £5000  a  year  of  sal- 


MODEL    PRISONS.  81 

ary  for  it  ;  but  lived  merely  on  his  Bedfordshire 
estates,  and  as  Siiigsby  irreverently  expresses' it,  "by 
chewing  his  own  end."  And,  sm'e  enongli,  if  any 
man  might  chew  the  end  of  placid  reflections,  solid 
Howard,  a  monrnfnl  man  otherwise,  might  at  inter- 
vals indulge  a  little  in  that  Inxnry.  No  money  sal- 
ary had  he  for  his  work  ;  he  had  merely  the  income 
of  his  properties,  and  what  he  conld  derive  from 
within.  Is  this  snch  a  sublime  distinction,  then  ? 
Well,  let  it  pass  at  its  value.  There  have  been  ben- 
efactors of  mankind  who  had  more  need  of  money 
than  he,  and  got  none  too.  Milton,  it  is  known,  did 
his  Paradise  Lost  at  the  easy  rate  of  five  pounds. 
Kepler  worked  out  the  secret  of  the  Heavenly  Mo- 
tions in  a  dreadfully  painful  manner  :  '  going  over 
the  calculations  sixty  times  ;  '  —  and  having  not  only 
no  public  money,  but  no  private  eitlier  ;  and,  in  fact, 
writing  almanacs  for  his  bread  and  water,  while  he 
did  this  of  the  Heavenly  Motions  ;  having  no  Bed- 
fordshire estates;  nothing  but  a  pension  of  £18, 
(which  they  would  not  pay  him),  the  valuable 
faculty  of  writing  almanacs,  and  at  length  the  inval- 
uable one  of  dying,  when  the  Heavenly  bodies  were 
vanquished,  and  battle's  conflagration  had  collapsed 
into  cold  dark  ashes,  and  the  starvation  reached  too 
liigh  a  pitch  for  the  poor  man.  Howard  is  not  the 
only  benefactor  that  has  worked  without  money  for 
us;  there  have  been  some  more, — and  will  be,  I 
hope!  For  the  Destinies  are  opulent;  and  send 
here  and  there  a  man  into  the  world  to  do  work,  for 
which  they  do  not  mean  to  pay  him  in  money.  And 
they  smite  him  beneficently  with  sore  afiiictions,  and 


82  MODEL    PRISONS. 

bliglit  his  world  all  into  grim  frozen  ruins  round 
hin;i^  —  and  can  make  a  wandering  Exile  of  their 
Dante,  and  not  a  soft-bedded  Podosta  of  Florence,  if 
they  wish  to  get  a  Divine  Comedy  oai  of  him.  Nay. 
that  rather  is  their  way,  when  they  have  worthy  work 
for  such  a  man  ;  they  scourge  him  manifoldly  to  the 
due  pitch,  sometimes  nearly  of  despair,  that  he  may 
search  desperately  for  his  work,  and  find  it  ;  they 
in-ge  him  on  still  with  beneficent  stripes  when  need- 
ful, as  is  constantly  the  case  between  whiles;  and, 
in  fact,  have  privately  decided  to  reward  him  with 
beneficent  death  by  and  by,  and  not  with  money  at 
all.  O  my  benevolent  friend,  I  honor  Howard  very 
much  ;  but  it  is  on  this  side  idolatry  a  long  way,  not 
to  an  infiniie  but  to  a  decidedly  finite  extent  !  And 
you,  —  put  not  the  modest  noble  Howard,  a  truly 
modest  man,  to  the  blush,  by  forcing  these  reflections 
on  us ! 

Cholera  Doctors,  hired  to  dive  into  black  dens  of 
infection  and  despair,  they,  rushing  about  all  day 
from  Kane  to  lane  with  their  life  in  their  hand,  are 
foui]d  to  do  their  function  ;  which  is  a  much  more 
rugged  one  than  Howard's  ?  Or  what  say  we,  Chol- 
era Doctors  ?  Ragged  losels  gathered  by  beat  of 
drum  from  the  overcrowded  streets  of  cities,  and 
drilled  a  little  and  dressed  in  red,  do  not  they  stand 
fire  in  an  uncensurable  manner;  and  handsomely  give 
their  life,  if  needful,  at  the  rate  of  a  shilling  pet'  day  ? 
Human  virtue,  if  we  went  down  to  the  roots  of  it, 
is  not  so  rare.  The  materials  of  human  virtue  are 
everywhere  abundant  as  the  light  of  the  sun  :  raw 
materials,  —  O  woe,  and  loss,  and  scandal  thrice  and 


MODEL   PRISONS.  83 

threefold,  that  they  so  seldom  are  elaborated,  and 
built  into  a  result !  That  they  lie  yet  unelaborated 
and  stagnant  in  the  souls  of  wide-spread  dreary  mil- 
lions, fermenting,  festering  ;  and  issue  at  last  as  ener- 
getic vice  instead  of  strong  practical  virtue  !  A  Mrs. 
Manning  -dying  game,'  —  alas,  is  not  that  the  foiled 
potentiality  of  a  kind  of  heroine  too?  Not  a  heroic 
Judith,  not  a  mother  of  the  Gracchi  now,  but  a  hid- 
eous murderess,  fit  to  be  the  mother  of  hysenas  !  To 
such  extent  can  potentialities  be  foiled.  Education, 
kingship,  command,  —  where  is  it,  whither  has  it 
fled  ?  Woe  a  thousand  times,  that  this,  which  is  the 
task  of  all  kings,  captains,  priests,  public  speakers, 
land-owners,  book-writers,  mill-owners,  and  persons 
possessing  or  preteiiding  to  possess  authority  among 
mankind,  —  is  left  neglected  among  them  all;  and 
instead  of  it  so  little  done  but  protocolling,  black-or- 
white  surplicing,  partridge-shooting,  parliamentary 
eloquence  and  popular  twaddle-literature  ;  with  such 
results  as  we  see  ! 

Howard  abated  the  Jail-fever  ;  but  it  seems  to  me 
he  has  been  the  innocent  cause  of  a  far  more  distress- 
ing fever  which  rages  high  just  now;  what  we  may 
call  the  Benevolent-Platform  Fever.  Howard  is  to 
be  regarded  as  the  unlucky  fountain  of  that  tumultu- 
ous frothy  ocean-tide  of  benevolent  sentimentality, 
'abolition  of  punishment,'  all-absorbing  'prison-dis- 
cipline,' and  general  morbid  sympathy  instead  of 
hearty  hatred  for  scoundrels;  which  is  threatening 
to  drown  human  society  as  in  deluges,  and  leave, 
instead  of  an  '  edifice  of  society  '  fit  for  the  habitation 
of  men,  a  continent  of  fetid  ooze  inhabitable  only  by 


84  MODEL    TRISONS. 

mud-gods  and  creatures  that  walk  upon  their  belly. 
Few  things  more  distress  a  thinking  soul  at  this  time. 
Most  sick  am  I,  O  friends,  of  this  sugary  disastrous 
jargon  of  philanthropy,  the  reign  of  love,  new  era  of 
universal  brotherhood,  and  not  Paradise  to  the  Well- 
deserving  but  Paradise  to  AU-and-sundry,  which  pos- 
sesses the  benighted  minds  of  men  and  women  in 
our  day.  My  friends,  I  think  you  are  much  mistaken 
about  Paradise  !  'No  Paradise  for  anybody  ;  he  that 
cannot  do  without  Paradise,  go  his  ways  : '  suppose 
you  tried  that  for  a  while  !  I  reckon  that  the  safer 
version  !  Unhappy  sugary  brethren,  this  is  all  untrue, 
this  other ;  contrary  to  the  fact :  not  a  tatter  of  it  will 
hanar  toorether  in  the  wind  and  weather  of  fact.  In 
brotherhood  with  the  base  and  foolish  I,  for  one,  do 
not  mean  to  live.  Not  in  brotherhood  with  them 
•was  life  hitherto  worth  much  to  me  ;  in  pity,  in  hope 
not  yet  quite  swallowed  of  disgust,  —  otherwise  in 
^enmity  that  must  last  through  eternity,  in  unap- 
peasable aversion,  shall  I  have  to  live  with  these  ! 
Brotherhood  ?  No,  be  the  thought  far  from  me. 
They  are  Adam's  children,  —  alas  yes,  I  well  re- 
member that,  and  never  shall  forget  it ;  hence  this 
rage  and  sorrow.  But  they  have  gone  over  to  the 
dragons  ;  they  have  quitted  the  Father's  house,  and 
set  up  with  the  Old  Serpent :  till  they  return,  how 
can  they  be  brothers  ?  They  are  enemies,  deadly  to 
themselves  and  to  me  and  to  you,  tiU  then  ;  till  then, 
while  hope  yet  lasts,  I  will  treat  them  as  brothers 
fallen  insane; — when  hope  has  ended,  with  tears 
grown  sacred  and  Avrath  grown  sacred,  I  will  cut 
them  off  in  the  name  of  God !     It  is  at  my  peril,  if 


MODEL    PRISONS.  85 

I  do  not.  With  the  servant  of  Satan  I  dare  not  con- 
tinue in  partnership.  Him  must  I  put  away,  reso- 
hjtely  and  forever,  'lest,'  as  it  is  written,  'I  become 
partaker  of  his  plagues.' 

Beautiful  Black  Peasantry,  who  have  fallen  idle 
and  have  got  the  Devil  at  your  elbow  ;  interesting 
White  Felonry,  who  are  not  idle,  but  have  enlisted 
into  the  Devil's  regiments  of  the  line, — know  that 
my  benevolence  for  you  is  comparatively  trifling ! 
What  I  have  of  that  divine  feeling  is  due  to  others, 
not  to  you.  A  '  Universal  Sluggard-and-Scoundrel 
Protection  Society'  is  not  the  one  I  mean  to  institute 
in  these  times,  where  so  much  wants  protection,  and 
is  sinking  to  sad  issues  for  want  of  it !  The  scoun- 
drel needs  no  protection.  The  scoundrel  that  loill 
hasten  to  the  gallows,  why  not  rather  clear  the  way 
for  him  ?  Better  he  reach  ids  goal  and  outgate  by 
the  natural  proclivity,  than  be  so  expensively  dammed 
up  and  detained,  poisoning  every  thing  as  he  stagnates 
and  meaPiders  along,  to  arrive  at  last  a  hundred  times 
fouler,  and  swollen  a  hundred  times  bigger  !  Benevo- 
lent men  should  reflect  on  this. — And  you  Q^uashee, 
my  pumpkin,  —  (not  a  bad  fellow  either,  this  poor 
Q,uashee,  when  tolerably  guided  !)  —  idle  Gluashee,  I 
say  you  nmst  get  the  Devil  se)it  away  from  your 
elbow,  my  poor  dark  friend !  In  this  world  there 
will  be  no  existence  for  you  otherwise.  No,  not  as 
the  brother  of  your  folly  will  I  live  beside  you. 
Please  to  withdraw  out  of  my  way,  if  1  am  riot  to 
contradict  your  folly,  and  amend  it,  and  put  it  in  the 
stocks  if  it  will  not  amend.  By  the  Eternal  Maker, 
it  is  on  that  footing  alone  that  you  and  I  can  live 
8 


86  MODEL    PRISONS. 

together  !  And  if  you  had  respectable  traditions  dated 
from  beyond  Magna  Charta,  or  from  beyond  the 
Dehige,  to  tlie  contrary,  and  written  sheepskins  that 
would  thatch  the  face  of  the  world, — behold  I,  for 
one  individual,  do  not  believe  said  respectable  tra- 
ditions, nor  regard  said  written  sheepskins  except  as 
things  which  you,  till  you  grow  wiser,  will  believe. 
Adieu,  Qnashee;  I  will  wish  you  better  guidance 
than  you  have  had  of  late. 

On  the  whole,  what  a  reflection  is  it  that  we  can- 
i  jiot  bestow  on  an  unworthy  man  any  particle  of  our 
benevolence,  our  patronage,  or  whatever  resource  is 
-  onrs,  —  without  withdrawing  it,  it  and  all  that  will 
grow  of  it,  frotn  one  worthy,  to  whom  it  of  right 
belongs!  We  cannot,  I  say;  impossible;  it  is  the 
/eternal  law  of  things.  Incompetent  Duiican  M'Paste- 
horn,  the  hapless  imcompetent  mortal  to  whom  I  give 
the  cobbling  of  my  boots, — and  cannot  find  in  my 
heart  to  refuse  it,  the  poor  drunken  wretch  having  a 
wife  and  ten  children  ;  he  vnthdraios  the  job  from 
sober,  plainly  competent  and  meritorious  Mr.  Spar- 
rowbill,  generally  short  of  work  too  ;  discourages 
Sparrowbill  ;  teaches  him  that  he  too  may  as  well 
drink  and  loiter  and  bungle  ;  that  this  is  not  a  scene 
for  merit  and  demerit  at  all,  but  for  dupery,  and 
whming  flattery,  and  incompetent  cobbling  of  every 
description;  —  cleaily  tending  to  the  ruin  of  poor 
Sparrowbill  !  What  harm  had  Sparrowbill  done  me 
that  I  should  so  help  to  ruin  him  ?  And  I  couldn't 
save  the  insalvable  M'Pastehorn  :  I  merely  yielded 
him,  for  insufficient  work,  here  an,d  there  a  half- 
crown, —  which  he  oftenest  drank.  And  now  Spar- 
rowbill also  is  drinking  I 


MODEL    PRISONS.  87 

Justice,  Justice  :  woe  betides  us  everywhere  when, 
for  this  reason  or  for  that,  we  fail  to  do  justice  !  No 
beneficence,  benevolence,  or  other  virtuous  contribu- 
tion will  make  good  the  want.  And  in  what  a  rate 
of  terrible  geometrical  progression,  far  beyond  our 
poor  computation,  any  act  of  injustice  once  done  by 
us  grows  ;  rooting  itself  ever  anew,  spreading,  ever 
anew,  like  a  banyan-tree,  —  blasting  all  life  under  it, 
for  it  is  a  poison-tree  !  There  is  but  one  thing  needed 
for  the  world ;  but  that  one  is  indispensable.  Justice, 
Justice,  in  the  name  of  Heaven  ;  give  us  Justice,  and 
we  live  ;  give  us  only  counterfeits  of  it,  or  succedanea 
for  it,  and  we  die  ! 

Oh  this  universal  syllabub  of  philanthropic  twM- 
dle  !  My  friend,  it  is  very  sad.  now  when  Christianity 
is  as  good  as  extinct  in  all  hearts,  to  meet  this  ghastly 
Phantasm  of  Christianity  parading  through  almost  all. 
"I  will  clean  your  foul  thoroughfares,  and  make  your 
Devil's-cloaca  of  a  world  into  a  garden  of  Heaven,^ 
jabbers  this  Phantasm,  itself  a  phosphorescence  and 
unclean!  The  worst,  it  is  written,  comes  from  cor- 
ruption of  the  best.  Semitic  forms  now  lying  putres- 
cent, dead  and  still  unburied,  this  phosphorescence 
rises.  I  say  sometimes,  such  a  blockhead  Idol,  and 
miserable  White  Mumbojumbo,  fashioned  out  of  de- 
ciduous sticks  and  cast  clothes,  out  of  extinct  cants 
and  modern  sentimentalisms,  as  that  which  they  sing 
litanies  to  at  Exeter-Hall  and  ex4;ensively  elsewhere, 
was  perhaps  never  set  up  by  human  folly  before. 
Unhappy  creatures,  that  is  not  the  Maker  of  the  Uni- 
verse, not  that,  —  look  one  moment  at  the  Universe, 
and  see .     That  is  a  paltry  Phantasm,  engendered  in 


88  MODEL    PRISONS. 

your  own  sick  brain  ;  whoever  follows  that  as  a  Re- 
ality, will  fall  into  the  ditch. 

Reform,  refo'rm,  all  men  see  and  feel,  is  imperative- 
ly needed.  Reform  must  cither  be  got,  and  speedily, 
or  else  we  die  :  and  nearly  all  the  men  that  speak  in- 
struct us,  saying,  "Have  you  quite  done  your  inter- 
esting Negroes  in  the  Sugar  Islands?  Rush  to  the 
Jails,  then,  O  ye  reformers  ;  snatch  up  the  interesting 
scoundrel-population  there,  to  them  be  nursing-fathers 
and  nursing-mothers.  And  O  wash,  and  dress,  and 
teach,  and  recover  to  the  service  of  Heaven,  these  poor 
lost  soiils :  so,  we  assure  you,  will  society  attain  the 
needful  reform,  and  life  be  still  possible  in  this  world." 
Thus  sing  the  oracles  ^everywhere  ;  nearly  all  the 
men  that  speak,  —  though  we  doubt  not,  there  are,  as 
usual,  immense  majorities  consciously  or  unconscious- 
ly wiser  who  hold  their  tongue.  But  except  this  of 
whitev/ashing  the  scoundrel-population,  one  sees  little 
'reform  '  going  on.  There  is  perhaps  some  endeavor 
to  do  a  little  scavengering  ;"  and,  as  the  all-including 
point,  to  cheapen  the  terrible  cost  of  Government  : 
but  neither  of  these  enterprises  makes  progress,  owing 
to  impediments.  "  Whitewash  your  scoundrel-popu- 
lation ;  sweep  out  your  abominable  gutters  (if  not  in 
the  name  of  God,  ye  brutish  slatterns,  then  in  the 
name  of  Cholera  and  the  Royal  College  of  Surgeons  :) 
do  these  two  things  ;  —  and  observe,  much  cheaper  if 
you  please  !  " 

Well,  there  surely  is  an  Evangel  of  Freedom,  and 
real  Program  of  a  new  Era.  WHiat  surliest  misan- 
thrope would  not  find  this  world  lovely,  were  these 
things  done: — scoundrels  whitewashed:  some   de- 


MODEL    PRISONS.  89 

gree  of  scavengeriiig  upon  tlie  gutters;  and  at  aclieap 
rate,  thirdly?  That  surely  is  an  occasion  on  wliich, 
if  ever  on  any,  the  Genius  of  Reform  may  ])i|)e  all 
hands! — Poor  old  Genius  of  Reform  ;  bedrid  this 
good  while;  with  little  but  broken  Ballot-boxes,  and 
tattered  stripes  of  Benthamee  Constitutions  lying 
round  liim  ;  a^d  on  the  walls  mere  shadows  of  cloth- 
ing colonels,  rates-in-aid,  poor  law  unions,  defunct 
potato  and  the  Irish  ditTiculty,  —  he  does  not,  seem 
long  for  this  world,  piping  tg  that  effect  ! 

Not  the  least  disgusting  feature  of  this  Gospel  ac- 
cording to  the  Platform  is  its  reference  to  religion, 
and  even  to  the  Christian  Religion,  as  an  authority 
and  mandate  for  what  it  does.  Christian  Religion? 
Does  the  Christian  or  any  religion  prescribe  love 
of  scoundrels,  then  ?  I  hope  it  prescribes  a  healthy 
hatred  of  scoundrels ;  —  otherwise  what  am  I,  in 
Heaven's  name,  to  make  of  it  ?  Me,  for  one,  it  will 
not  serve  as  a  religion  on  those  strange  terms.  Just 
hatred  of  scoundrels,  I  say  ;  fixed,  irreconcilable,  in- 
exorable enmity  to  the  enemies  of  God  ;  this,  and  not 
love  for  them,  and  incessant  whitewashing,  and  dress- 
ing and  cockering  of  them,  must,  if  you  will  look 
into  it,  be  the  backbone  of  any  human  religion  what- 
soever. Christian  Religion  !  In  what  words  can  I 
address  you,  ye  unfortunates,  sunk  in  the  slushy  ooze 
till  the  worship  of  mud-serpents,  and  unutterable 
Pythons  and  poisonous  slimy  monstrosities,  seems  to 
you  the  worship  of  God  ?  This  is  the  rotten  carcass 
of  CluMStianity  ;  this  malodorous  phosphorescence  of 
post-mortem  sentimentalism.  O  Heavens,  from  the 
Christianity  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  wrestling  in  grim 
8* 
\ 


90  MODEL    PRISONS.   ' 

fight  with  Satan  and  his  incarnate  Blackguardisms, 
Hypocrisies,  Injustices,  and  legion  of  human  and  in- 
fernal angels,  to  that  of  eloquent  Mr.  Hesperus  Fid- 
dlestring  denouncing  capital  punishments,  and  incul- 
cating the  benevolences  on  platforms,  what  a  road 
have  we  travelled  ! 

A  foolish  stump-orator,  perorating  on  his  platform 
mere  benevolences,  seems  a  pleasant  object  to  many 
persons  ;  a  harmless  or  insignificant  one  to  almost  all. 
Look  at  him,  however,  scan  him  till  you  discern  the 
nature  of  him,  he  is  not  pleasant  but  ugly  and  peril- 
ous. That  beautiful  speech  of  his  takes  captive  every 
long  ear,  and  kindles  into  quasi-sacred  enthusiasm  the 
minds  of  not  a  few  :  but  it  is  quite  in  the  teeth  of 
the  everlasting  facts  of  this  Universe,  and  will  come 
only  to  mischief  for  every  party  concerned.  Con- 
sider that  little  spouting  wretch.  Within  the  paltry 
skin  of  him,  it  is  too  probable,  he  holds  few  human 
virtues,  beyond  those  essential  for  digesting  victual : 
envious,  cowardly,  vain,  a  splenetic  hungry  soul  ; 
what  heroism,  in  word  or  thought  or  action,  will  you 
ever  get  from  the  like  of  him  ?  He,  in  his  necessity, 
has  taken  into  the  benevolent  line  ;  warms  the  cold 
vacuity  of  his  inner  man  to  some  extent,  in  a  com- 
fortable manner,  not  by  silently  doing  some  virtue  of 
his  own,  but  by  fiercely  recommending  hearsay 
pseudo-virtues  and  respectable  benevolences  to  other 
people.  Do  you  call  that  a  good  trade  ?  Long-eared 
fellow-creatures,  more  or  less  resembling  himself,  an- 
swer, "  Hear,  hear  !  Live  Fiddlestring  forever  !  " 
Wherefrom  follow  Abolition  Congresses,  Odes  to  the 
Gallows  ;  —  perhaps    some   dirty  little    Bill,    getting 


MODEL    PRISO^JS.  91 

itself  debated  next  Session  in  Parliament,  to  waste 
certain  nights  of  onr  legislative  Year,  and  cause  skip- 
ping in  our  Morning  Newspaper,  till  the  abortion  can 
be  emptied  out  again  and  sent  fairly  floating  down 
the  gutters. 

Not  with  entire  approbation  do  I,  for  one,  look  on 
tliat  eloquent  individual.  Wise  benevolence,  if  it  had 
auiliority,  would  order  that  individual,  I  believe,  to 
find  some  otiier  trade  :  ''Eloquent  individual,  plead- 
ing here  against  the  Laws  of  Nature,  —  for  many 
reasons,  I  bid  thee  close  that  mouth  of  thine.  Enough 
of  balderdash  these  long-eared  have  now  drunk.  De- 
part thou  ;  do  some  benevolent  work  ;  at  lowest,  be 
silent.  Disappear,  I  say  ;  away,  and  jargon  no  more 
in  that  manner,  lest  a  worse  thing  befiill  thee,"  Exeat 
Fiddlestring  !  ^  Beneficent  men  are  not  they  who 
appear  on  platforms,  pleading  against  the  Almighty 
Maker's  Laws  ;  these  are  the  maleficent  men,  whose 
lips  it  is  pity  that  some  authority  cannot  straightway 
shut.  Pandora's  Box  is  not  more  baleful  than  the 
gifts  these  eloquent  benefactors  are  pressing  on  us. 
Close  your  pedler's-pack,  my  friend  ;  swift,  away  with 
it  !  Pernicious,  frauglit  with  mere  woe  and  sugary 
poison,  is  that  kind  of  benevolence  and  beneficence. 

Truly,  one  of  the  saddest  sights  in  these  times  is 
that  of  poor  creatures,  on  platforms,  in  parliaments 
and  other  situations,  making  and  unmaking  '  Laws; ' 
in  whose  soul,  full  of  mere  vacant  hearsay  and  windy 
babhle,  is  and  was  no  image  of  Heaven's  Law  ;  whom 
it  never  struck  tliat  Heaven  had  a  Law,  or  that  the 
Earth — could  not  have  Avhat  kind  of  Law  you 
pleased !      Human    Statute-books,    accordingly,    are 


92  MODEL    PRISONS. 

growing  horrible  to  think  of.  An  impiety  and  poi- 
sonous futility  every  Law  of  them  that  is  so  made  ; 
all  Nature  is  against  it;  it  will  and  can  do  nothing 
but  mischief  wheresoever  it  shows  itself  in  Nature  : 
and  such  Laws  lie  now  like  an  incubus  over  this 
Earth,  so  innumerable  are  they.  How  long,  O  Lord, 
how  long  !  —  O  ye  Eternities,  Divine  Silences,  do 
you  dwell  no  more,  then,  in  the  hearts  of  the  noble 
and  the  true  ;  and  is  there  no  inspiration  of  the  Al- 
mighty any  more  vouchsafed  us  ?  The  inspiration 
of  the  ,  Morning  Newspapers  —  alas,  we  have  had 
enough  of  that,  and  are  arrived  at  the  gates  of  death 
by  means  of  that ! 

"  Really,  one  of  the  most  difficult  questions  this 
we  have  in  these  times,  What  to  do  with  our  crim- 
inals ? "  blandly  observed  a  certain  Law-dignitary,  in 
my  hearing  once,  taking  the  cigar  from  his  mouth, 
and  pensively  smiling  over  a  group  of  us  under  the 
summer  beech-tree,  as  Favonius  carried  off  the  tobac- 
co-smoke ;  and  the  group  said  nothing,  only  smiled 
and  nodded,  answering  by  new  tobacco-clouds. 
''  What  to  do  v/ith  our  criminals  ?  "  asked  the  official 
Law-dignitary  again,  as  if  entirely  at  a  loss.  —  "I 
suppose,"  said  one  ancient  figure  not  engaged  in 
smoking,  "  the  plan  would  be  to  treat  them  according 
to  the  real  law  of  the  case  ;  to  make  the  Law  of 
England,  in  respect  to  them,  correspond  to  the  Law 
of  the  Universe.  Criminals,  I  suppose,  would  prove 
manageable  in  that  way:  if  we  could  do  approx- 
imately as  God  Almighty  does  towards  them  ;  in  a 
word,  if  we  could  try  to  do  Justice  towards  them." 
*•  I'll  thank  you  for  a  definition  of  Justice  !  "  sneered 


MODEL    PRISONS.  93 

the  official  person  in  a  cheerily  scornful  and  trium- 
phant manner,  backed  by  a  slight  laugh  from  the 
honorable  company ;  which  irritated  the  other  speak- 
er.—  "Well.  I  have  no  pocket-definition  of  Justice," 
said  he,  "to  give  your  Lordship.  It  has  not  quite 
been  my  trade  to  look  for  such  a  definition  ;  1  could 
ratlier  fancy  it  had  been  your  Lordship's  trade, 
sitting  on  your  high  place  this  long  while.  But 
one  thing  I  can  tell  you  :  Justice  always  is,  whether 
we  define  it  or  not.  Everything  done,  suffered  or 
proposed,  in  Parliament  or  out  of  it,  is  either  just  or 
else  unjust  ;  either  is  accepted  by  the  gods  and  eter- 
nal facts,  or  is  rejected  by  them.  Your  Lordship  and^ 
T,  with  or  without  definition,  do  a  little  know  Justice, . 
I  will  hope  ;  if  we  don't  botlTknow  it  and  do  it,  we 
are  hourly  travelling  down  towards  —  Heavens,  must 
I  name  such  a  place  !  That  is  the  place  we  are  bound 
to,  with  all  our  trading-pack,  and  the  small  or  exten- 
sive budgets  of  human  business  laid  on  us  ;  and  there, 
if  we  don't  know  Justice,  we,  and  all  our  budgets  and 
Acts  of  Parliament,  shall  fmd  lodging  when  the  day 
is  done  !  "  The  official  person,  a  polite  man  other- 
wise, grinned  as  he  best  could  some  semblance  of  a 
laugh,  mirthful  as  that  of  the  ass  eating  thistles,  and 
ended  in  "  Hah,  oh,  ah  !  " 

Indeed,  it  is  wonderful  to  hear  what  account  we  at 
present  give  ourselves  of  the  punishment  of  criminals. 
No  '  revenge  '  —  O  heavens,  no  ;  all  preachers  on  Sun- 
day strictly  forbid  that ;  and  even  (at  least  on  Sundays) 
prescribe  the  contrary  of  that.  It  is  for  the  sake  of 
'example,'  that  you  punish;  to  'protect  society'  and 
its  purse  and  skin  ;  to  deter  the  innocent  from  falling 


94  MODEL    PlIISONS. 

into  crime  ;  and  especially  withal,  for  the  purpose  of 
improving  the  poor  criminal  himself,  —  or,  at  lowest, 
of  hanging  and  ending  him,  that  he  may  not  grow 
worse.  -For  the  poor  criminal  is  to  be  '  improved,'  if 
possible  ;  against  him  no  '  revenge '  even  on  week- 
days ;  nothhig  but  love  for  him,  and  pity  and  help  ; 
poor  fellow,  is  he  not  miserable  enough  ?  Very  mis- 
erable, —though  much  less  so  than  the  Master  of  him, 
called  Satan,  is  understood  (on  Sundays)  to  have  long 
deservedly  been  ! 

My  friends,  v/ill  you  permit  me  to  say  that  all  this, 
to  one  poor  judgment  among  your  number,  is  the 
mournful  lest  twaddle  that  human  tongues  could  shake 
from  them  ;  that  it  has  no  solid  foundation  in  the  na- 
ture of  things  ;  and  to  a  healthy  human  heart  no 
credibility  whatever.  Permit  me  to  say,  only  to 
hearts  long  drowned  in  dead  Tradition,  and  for  them- 
selves neither  believing  nor  disbelieving,  could  this 
seem  credible.  Think,  and  ask  yourselves,  in  spite 
of  all  this  preaching  and  perorating  from  the  teeth 
outward  !  Hearts  that  are  quite  strangers  to  eternal 
Fact,  and  acquainted  only  at  all  hours  with  temporary 
Semblances  parading  about  in  a  prosperous  and  per- 
suasive condition  :  hearts  that  from  their  first  appear- 
ance in  this  world  have  breathed  since  birth,  in  all 
spiritual  matters,  which  means  in  all  matters  not  pe- 
cuniary, the  poisonous  atmosphere  of  universal  Cant, 
could  believe  sjich  a  thing.  Cant  moral.  Cant  re- 
ligious, Cant  political;  an  atmosphere  which  envel- 
ops all  things  for  us  unfortunates,  and  has  long  done  ; 
which  goes  beyond  the  Zenith  and  below  the  Nadir 
for  us,  and  has  as  good  as  choked  the  spiritual  life  out 


MODEL    PRISO^•S.  95 

of  all  of  us,  —  God  pity  such  wretches,  with  little  or 
nothing  real  about  them  but  their  purse  and  their 
abdominal  department!  Hearts,  alas,  wliich,  every- 
where except  in  the  metallurgic  and  cotton-spinning 
provinces,  have  communed  with  no  Reality,  or  awful 
Presence  of  a  Fact,  godlike  or  diabolic,  in  this  Uui- 
verse  or  this  unfathomable  Life  at  all.  Hunger- 
stricken  asphyxied  hearts,  which  have  nourished 
themselves  on  what~they  call  religions,  Christian  re- 
ligions. Good  Heaven,  once  more  fancy  the  Christian 
religion ^of  Oliver  Cromwell ;  or  of  some  noble  Chris- 
tian man,  whom  you  yourself  may  have  been  blessed 
enough,  once,  long  since,  in  your  life,  to  know! 
These  are  not  untrue  religions  ;  they  are  the^putres- 
cences  and  foul  residues  of  religions  that  are  extinct, 
that  have  plainly  to  every  honest  nostril  been  dead 
some  time,  and  the  remains  of  which  —  O  ye  eternal 
Heavens,  will  the  nostril  never  be  delivered  from 
them  !  —  Such  hearts,  when  they  get  upon  platforms, 
and  into  questions  not  involving  money,  can  '  believe' 
many  things !  — 

I  take  the  liberty  of  asserting  that  there  is  one  valid 
reason,  and  only  one,  for  either  punishiqg  a  man  or 
rewarding  him  in  this  world  ;  one  reason,  which  an- 
cient piety  could  well  define  :  That  you  may  do  the 
will  and  commandment  of  God  with  regard  to  him  ; 
that  you  may  do  justice  to  him.  This  is  your  one 
true  aim  in  respect  to  him  ;  aim  thitherward,  with  all 
your  heart  and  all  your  strength  and  all  your  soul  ; 
thitherward,  and  not  elsewhither  at  all !  This  aim  is 
true,  and  will  carry  you  to  all  earthly  heights  and 
benefits,  and   beyond  the  stars   and   Heavens.     All 


96  MODEL    PRISONS. 

Other  aims  are  purblind,  illegitimate,  untrue  ;  and  will 
never  carry  you  beyond  the  shop-counter,  nay  very 
soon  will  prove  themselves  incapable  of  maintaining 
you  even  there.  Find  ont  Avhat  the  Law  of  God  is 
with  regard  to  a  man  ;  make  that  your  human  law, 
or  I  say  it  will  be  ill  with  you,  and  not  well !  If  you 
love  your  thief  or  murderer,  if  Nature  and  eternal 
Fact  love  him,  then  do  as  you  are  now  doing.  But 
if  Nature  and  Fact  do  not  love  him  ?  If  they  have 
set  inexorable  penalties  upon  him.  and  planted  natural 
wrath  against  him  in  every  god-created  human  heart, 
—  then  I  advise  you,  cease,  and  change  your  hand. 

Rew^ard  and  punishment  ?  Alas,  alas,  I  must  say 
you  reward  and  punish  pretty  much  alike  !  Your 
dignities,  peerages,  promotions,  your  kingships,  your 
brazen  statues  erected  in  capital  and  county  towns  to 
our  select  demigods  of  your  selecting,  testify  loudly 
enough  what  kind  of  heroes  and  hero-worshippers 
you  are.  Woe  to  the  People  that  no  longer  venerates, 
as  the  emblem  of  God  himself,  the  aspect  of  Human 
Worth  :  that  no  longer  knows  what  human  worth  and 
unworth  is  !  Sure  as  the  Decrees  of  the  Eternal,  that 
People  cannot  come  to  good.  By  a  course  too  clear, 
by  a  necessity  too  evident,  that  People  will  come  into 
the  hands  of  the  unworthy ;  and  either  turn  on  its 
bad  career,  or  stagger  downwards  to  ruin  and  aboli- 
tion. Does  the  Hebrew  People  prophetically  sing 
''  Ou'  do'  !  "  in  all  thoroughfares,  these  eighteen 
hundred  years,  in  vain? 

To  reward  men  according  to  their  worth:  alas,  the 
perfection   of  this,  we  know,  amounts  to  the  milieu 
nium  !     Neither  is  perfect  punishment,  according  to 


MODEL    PRISONS.  97 

the  like  rule,  to  be  attained, — nor  even,  by  a  legis- 
lator of  these  chaotic  days,  to  be  too  zealously  at- 
tempted. Bat  when  he  does  attempt  it,  —  yes,  when 
he  summons  out  the  Society  to  sit  deliberative  on  this 
matter,  and  consult  the  oracles  upon  it,  and  solemnly 
settle  it  in  the  name  of  God  ;  then,  if  never  before, 
he  should  try  to  be  a  little  in  the  right  in  settling  it  ! 
—  In  regard  to  reward  of  merit,  I  do  not  bethink  me 
of  any  attempt  whatever,  worth  calling  an  attempt, 
on  the  part  of  modern  Governments  ;  which  surely  is 
an  immense  oversight  on  their  part,  and  will  one  day 
be  seen  to  have  been  an  altogether  fatal  one.  But  as 
to  the  punishment  of  crime,  happily  this  cannot  be 
quite  neglected.  When  men  have  a  purse  and  a  skin, 
they  seek  salvation  at  least  for  these ;  and  the  Four 
Pleas  of  the  Crown  are  a  thing  that  must  and  will  be 
attended  to.  By  punishment,  capital  or  other,  by 
treadmill ing  and  blind  rigor,  or  by  whitewashing  and 
blind  laxity,  the  extremely  disagreeable  offences  of 
theft  and  murder  must  be  kept  down  within  limits. 

And  so  you  take  criminal  caitiffs,  murderers  and 
the  like,  and  hang  them  on  gibbets  '  for  an  example 
to  deter  others.'  Whereupon  arise  friends  of  human- 
ity, and  object.  With  very  great  reason,  as  1  con- 
sider, if  your  hypothesis  be  correct.  What  right  have 
you  to  hang  any  poor  creature  '  for  an  example  ? '  He 
can  turn  round  upon  you,  and  say,  "  Why  make  an 
'example'  of  me,  a  merely  ill-situated,  pitiable  man? 
Have  you  no  more  respect  for  misfortune  ?  Misfor- 
tune, I  have  been  told,  is  sacred.  And  yet  you  hang 
me,  now  I  am  fallen  into  your  hands  ;  choke  the  life 
out  of  me,  for  an  example  !  Again  I  ask,  Why  make 
9 


98  MODEL    PRISONS. 

an  example  of  ??i£?5for  your  own  convenience  alone  ?  " 
—  All  'revenge'  being  out  of  the  question,  it  seems 
to  me  the  caititf  is  unanswerable  ;  and  he  and  tho 
philanthropic  platforms  have  the  logic  all  on  their 
side. 

The  one  answer  to  him  is  :  "  Caitiif,  we  hate  thee  ; 
and  discern  for  some  six  thousand  years  now,  that  we 
are  called  upon  by  the  whole  Universe  to  do  it.  Not 
with  a  diabolic  but  with  a  divine  hatred.  God  him- 
self, we  have  always  understood,  '  hates  sin,'  with  a 
most  authentic,  celestial,  and  eternal  hatred.  A 
hatred,  a  hostility  inexorable,  unappeasable,  which 
blasts  the  scoundrel,  and  all  scoundrels  ultimately, 
into  black  atmihilation  and  disappearance  from  the 
sum  of  things.  The  path  of  it.  as  the  path  of  a 
flaming  sword  :  he  that  has  eyes  may  see  it,  w^alking 
inexorable,  divinely  beautiful  and  divinely  terrible, 
through  the  chaotic  gulf  of  human  History,  and 
everywhere  burning,  as  with  unquenchable  fire,  the 
false  and  death- worthy  from  the  true  and  life-worthy  ; 
making  all  Human  History,  and  the  Biography  of 
every  man,  a  God's  Cosmos  in  pfece  of  a  Devil's 
Chaos.  So  is  it,  in  the  end  ;  even  so,  to  every  man 
Avho  is  a  man,  and  not  a  mutinous  beast,  and  has  eyes 
to  see.  To  thee,  caitiff,  these  things  were  and  are 
quite  incredible;  to  us  they  are  too  awfully  certain, 
—  the  Eternal  Law  of  this  Universe,  whether  thou 
and  others  will  believe  it  or  disbelieve.  We,  not  to 
be  partakers  in  thy  destructive  adventure  of  defying 
God  and  all  the  Universe,  dare  not  allow  thee  to  con- 
tinue longer  among  us.  As  a  palpable  deserter  from 
the  ranks  where  all   men,  at  their  eternal   peril,  are 


MODEL    PRISONS.  99 

bound  to  be  :  palpable  deserter,  taken  with  the  red 
hand,  fighting  thns  against  the  whole  Universe  and 
its  Laws,  we,  —  send  thee  back  into  the  whole  Uni- 
verse, solemnly  expel  thee  from  our  community;  and 
will,  in  the  name  of  God,  not  with  joy  and  exultation, 
bnt  with  sorrow  stern  as  thy  own,  hang  thee  on 
Wednesday  next,  and  so  end." 

Other  ground  on  which  to  deliberately  slay  a  dis- 
armed fellow-man  I  can  see  none.  Example,  effects 
upon  the  pnbhc  mind,  effects  upon  this  and  upon 
that :  all  this  is  mere  appendage  and  accident  ;  of  all 
this  I  make  no  attempt  to  keep  account,  —  sensible 
that  no  arithmetic  will  or  can  keep  account  of  it ; 
tiiat  its  '  effects,'  on  this  hand  and  on  that,  transcend 
all  calculation.  One  thing,  if  I  can  calculate  it,  will 
include  all,  and  produce  beneficial  effects  beyond  cal- 
culation, and  no  ill  eflfect  at  all,  anywhere  or  at  any 
time:  What  the  Law  of  the  Universe,  or  Law  of 
God,  is  with  regard  to  this  caitiff?  That,  by  all  sacred 
research  and  consideration,  I  will  try  to  find  out ;  to 
that  I  will  eome  as  near  as  human  means  admit  ; 
that  shall  be  my  exemplar  and  -example;'  all  men 
shall  through  me  see  that,  and  be  profited  beyond 
calculation  by  seeing  it. 

What  this  Law  of  the  Universe,  or  Law  made  by 
God,  is?  Men  at  one  time  read  it  in  their  Bible.  In 
many  Bibles,  Books,  and  authentic  symbols  and  moni- 
tions of  Nature  and  the  Word  (of  Fact,  that  is,  and 
of  Human  Speech,  or  wise  Literpretation  of  Fact), 
there  are  still  clear  indications  towards  it.  Most  im- 
portant it  is,  for  this  and  for  some  other  reasons,  that 
men  do,  in  some  way,  get  to  see  it  a  little  !  And  if  no 


100  MODEL    PRISONS. 

man  could  uow  see  it  by  any  Bible,  there  is  written 
in  the  heart  of  every  man  an  authentic  copy  of  it 
direct  from  Heaven  itself:  there,  if  he  have  learnt  to 
decipher  Heaven's  writing,  and  can  read  the  sacred 
oracles,  (a  sad  case  for  him  if  he  altogether  cannot), 
every  born  man  may  still  find  some  copy  of  it. 

'  Revenge,'  my  friends !  revenge,  and  the  natnral 
hatred  of  scoundrels,  and  the  ineradicable  tendency 
to  revanche!'  oneself  upon  them,  and  pay  them  what 
they  have  merited  :  this  is  forevermore  intrinsically  a 
correct,  and  even  a  divine  feeling  in  the  mind  of  every 
man.  Only  the  excess  of  it  is  diabolic  ;  the  essence 
I  say  is  manlike,  and  even  godlike, — a  monition  sent 
to  poor  man  by  the  Maker  himself.  Thou,  poor  read- 
er, in  spite  of  all  this  melancholy  twaddle,  and  blot- 
ting out  of  Heaven's  sunlight  by  mountains  of  horse- 
hair and  officiality,  hast  still  a  human  heart.  If,  in 
returning  to  thy  poor  peaceable  dwelling  place,  after 
an  honest  hard  day's  work,  thou  wert  to  find,  for 
example,  a  brutal  scoundrel  who  for  lucre  or  other 
object  of  his  had  slaughtered  the  life  that  was  dearest 
to  thee  ;  thy  true  wife,  for  example,  thy  true  old 
mother,  swimming  in  her  blood  ;  the  human  scoun- 
drel, or  two-legged  wolf,  standing  over  such  a  tragedy  : 
I  hope  a  man  Avould  have  so  much  divine  rage  in  his 
heart  as  to  snatch  the  nearest  weapon,  and  put  a  con- 
clusion upon  said  human  wolf,  for  one  !  A  palpable 
messenger  of  Satan,  that  one;  accredited  by  all  the 
Devils,  to  be  put  an  end  to  by  all  the  children  of  God. 
The  soul  of  every  god-created  man  flames  wholly 
into  one  divine  blaze  of  sacred  wrath,  at  sight  of  such 
a  Devil's  messenger ;  authentic  first  hand  monition 


MODEL    PRISONS.  101 

from  the  Eternal  Maker  himself  as  to  wihat  is, next  ta 
be  done.  Do  it.  or  be  thyself  an  ally^of  Devil's  mes^^ 
sengers ;  a  sheep  for  two-legged  liumari  wolves,  \vatf 
deserving  to  be  eaten,  as  thou  soon  wilt  be  ! 

My  hnmane  friends,  I  perceive  this  same^ sacred 
glow  of  divine  wrath,  or  anthentic  monition  at  first- 
hand from  God  himself,  to  be  the  fonndatioh  for  all 
Criminal  Law,  and  Official  horsehair-and-bombazine 
procedure  against  Sconndrels  in  this  world.  This 
first-hand  gospel  from  the  Eternities,  imparted  to 
every  mortal,  this  is  still,  and  will  forever  be,  your 
sanction  and  commission  for  the  punishment  of  human 
scoundrels.  See  well,  how  you  will  translate  this 
message  from  Heaven  and  the  Eternities  into  a  form 
suitable  to  this  World  and  its  Times.  Let  not  vio- 
lence, haste,  blind  impetuous  impulse,  preside  in  exe- 
cuting it ;  the  injured  man,  invincibly  liable  to  fall 
into  these,  shall  not  himself  execute  it  :  the  whole 
world,  in  person  of  a  Minister  appointed  for  that  end, 
and  surrounded  with  the  due  solemnities  and  caveats, 
with  bailiffs,  apparitors,  advocates,  and  the  hushed  ex- 
p??ctation  of  all  men,  shall  do  it,  as  under  the  eye  of 
God  who  made  all  men.  How  it  shall  be  done  ?  This 
is  ever  a  vast  question,  involving  immense  considera- 
tions. Thus  Edmund  Burke  saw,  in  the  Two  Houses 
of  Parliament,  with  King,  Constitution  and  all  man- 
ner of  Civil-lists,  and  Chancellors'  wigs  and  Exchequer 
budgets,  only  the  '  method  of  getting  twelve  just  men 
put  into  a  jury-box:  '  that,  in  Burke's  view,  was  the 
summary  of  what  they  were  all  meant  for.  How  the 
judge  will  do  it?  Yes,  indeed  ;  —  but  let  lam  see 
9* 


102  MODEL    PRISONS. 

well  that  he  Hoe's  do  it ;  for  it  is  a  thing  that  must  by 
>Xo  m<5anR'he  left  undone  !  A  sacred  gospel  from  the 
flighest  ;  not  to  be  smothered  under  horsehair  and 
bombazine,  or  drowned  in  platform  froth,  or  in  any- 
wise omitted  or  neglected,  without  the  most  alarming 
penalties  to  all  concerned  ! 

Neglect  to  treat  the  hero  as  hero,  the  penalties, — ' 
which  are  inevitable  too,  and  terrible  to  think  of,  as 
your  Hebrew  friends  can  tell  you, — maybe  some 
time  in  coming  ;  they  will  only  gradually  come.  Not 
all  at  once  will  your  Thirty-thousand  Needlewomen, 
your  Three-million  Paupers,  your  Connaught  fallen 
into  potential  Cannibalism,  and  other  fine  conse- 
quences of  the  practice,  come  to  light;  —  though 
come  to  light  they  will  ;  and  "  Ou'  clo' !  "  itself  may 
be  in  store  for  you,  if  you  persist  steadily  enough. 
But  neglect  to  treat  even  your  declared  scoundrel  as 
scoundrel,  this  is  the  last  consunmiation  of  the  pro- 
cess, the  drop  by  which  the  cup  runs  over;  the  pen- 
alties of  this,  most  alarming,  extensive,  and  such  as 
you  little  dream  of,  will  straightway  very  rapidly 
come.  Dim  oblivion  of  Right  and  Wrong,  among 
the  masses  of  your  population,  will  come;  doubts  as 
to  Right  and  Wrong,  indistinct  notion  that  Right 
and  Wrong  are  not  eternal,  but  accidental,  and  settled 
by  uncertain  votings  and  talking,  will  come.  Pruri- 
ent influenza  of  Platform  Benevolence,  and  '  Paradise 
to  All-and-sundry,'  will  come.  In  the  general  pu- 
trescence of  your  'religions,'  as  you  call  them,  a 
strange  new  religion,  named  of  Universal  Love,  with 
Sacraments  mainly  of  Divorce,  with  Balzac,  Sue  and 
Company  for  Evangelists,  and  Madam  Sand  for  Vir- 


MODEL    PRISONS.  103 

gin,  will  come, — and  results  fast  following  there- 
from which  will  astonish  you  very  much  ! 

'  The  terrible  anarchies  of  these  years,'  says  Crabbe, 
in  his  Radiator^  '  are  brought  npon  us  by  a  necessity 
too  visible.  By  the  crime  of  Kings  —  alas,  yes;  but 
by  that  of  Peoples  too.  Not  by  the  crime  of  one 
class,  bnt  by  the  fatal  obscuration,  and  all  but  oblit- 
eration, of  the  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong  in  the 
minds  and  practices  of  every  class.  What  a  scene 
in  the  drama  of  Universal  History,  this  of  ours  ! 
A  world-wide  loud  bellow  and  bray  of  universal 
Misery  ;  lowing^  with  crushed  maddened  heart,  its 
inarticulate  prayer  to  Heaven  :  —  very  pardonable 
to  me,  and  in  some  of  its  transcendent  developments, 
as  in  the  grand  French  Revolution,  most  respecta- 
ble and  ever-memorable.  For  Injustice  reigns  every- 
where ;  and  this  murderous  struggle  for  what  they 
call  "  Fraternity,"  and  so  forth,  has  a  spice  of  eter- 
nal sense  in  it,  though  so  terribly  disfigured  !  Amal- 
gam of  sense  and  nonsense  ;  eternal  sense  by  the 
grain,  and  temporary  nonsense  by  the  square  mile  ; 
as  is  the  habit  with  poor  sons  of  men.  Which  par- 
donable amalgam  however,  if  it  be  taken  as  the 
pure  final  sense,  I  must  warn  you  and  all  creatures, 
is  unpardonable,  criminal,  and  fatal  nonsense  ;  — 
with  which  I,  for  one,  will  take  care  not  to  concern 
myself! 

*  Dogs  should  not  he  taught  to  eat  leather,  says  the 
old  adage  ;  no  ;  — and-  where  by  general  fault  and  er- 
ror and  the  inevitable  nemesis  of  things,  the  universal 
kennel  is  set  to  diet  upon  leather  ;  and  from  its  keepers, 
its  '^  Liberal  Premiers,"  or  whatever  their  title  is,  will 


204  MODEL    PRISONS. 

accept  or  expect  nothing  else,  and  calls  it  by  the  pleas- 
ant name  of  progress,  reform,  emancipation,  abolition^ 
principles,  and  the  like, —  I  consider  the  fate  of  said 
kennel  and  of  said  keepers  to  be  a  thing  settled.  Red 
republic  in  Phrygian  nightcap,  orgaiiization  of  labor 
a  la  Louis  Blanc  ;  street  barricades,  and  then  murderous 
cannon-volleys  a  la  Cavaignac  and  Windischgratz,  fol- 
low out  of  one  another,  as  grapes,  must,  new  wine,  and 
sour  all-splitting  vinegar  do: — vinegar  is  but  vin~ 
aigre,  or  the  selfsame  "wine"  grown  sharp !  If, 
moreover,  I  find  the  Worship  of  Human  Nobleness 
abolished  in  any  country,  and  a  »c?^  astonishing  Phal- 
lus-Worship, with  universal  Balzac-Sand  melodies  and 
litanies  in  treble  and  in  bass,  established  in  its  stead, 
what  can  I  compute  but  that  Nature,  in  horrible  throes, 
will  repugn  against  such  substitution, — that,  in  short, 
the  astonishing  New  Phallus- Worship,  with  its  finer 
sensibilities  of  the  heart,  and  "  great  satisfying  loves," 
with  its  sacred  kiss  of  peace  for  scoundrel  and  hero 
alike,  with  its  all-embracing  Brotherhood,  and  univer- 
sal Sacrament  of  Divorce,  will  have  to  take  itself 
away  again  !  ' 


The  Ancient  Germans,  it  appears,  had  no  scruple 
about  public  executions  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  thought 
the  just  gods  themselves  might  fitly  preside  over  these  ; 
that  these  were  a  solemn  and  highest  act  of  worship, 
if  justly  done.  When  a  German  man  had  done  a  crime 
deserving  death,  they,  in  solemn  general  assembly  of 
the  tribe,  doomed  him,  and  considered  that  Fate  and  all 
Nature  had  from  the  beginning  doomed  him,  to  die 


MODEL    PRISONS.  105 

with  ignominy.  Certain  crimes  there  were  of  a  su- 
preme nature  ;  him  that  had  perpetrated  one  of  these 
they  beUeved  to  have  declared  himself  a  prince  of 
scoundrels.  Him  once  convicted  they  laid  hold  of, 
nothing  doubting  ; — bore  him,  after  judgment,  to  the 
deepest  convenient  Peatbog;  plunged  him  in  there, 
drove  an  oaken  frame  down  over  him,  solemnly  in  the 
name  of  gods  and  men  :  "  There,  prince  of  scoundrels, 
that  is  what  we  have  had  to  think  of  thee,  on  clear 
acquaintance  ;  our  grim  good-night  to  thee  is  that !  In 
the  name  of  all  the  gods  lie  there,  and  be  our  partner- 
ship with  thee  dissolved  henceforth.  It  will  be  better 
for  us,  we  imagine  !  " 

My  friends,  after  all  this  beautiful  whitewash  and 
himianity  and  prison  discipline  ;  and  such  blubbering 
and  whimpering,  and  soft  Litany  to  divine  and  also  to 
quite  other  sorts  of  Pity,  as  we  have  had  for  a  century 
-now,  —  give  me  leave  to  remind  you  that  that  of  the 
Ancient  Germans  too  was  a  thing  inexpressibly  neces- 
sary to  keep  in  mind.  If  that  is  not  kept  in  mind,  the 
universal  litany  to  Pity  is  a  mere  universal  nuisance, 
and  torpid  blasphemy  against  the  gods.  I  do  not  much 
respect  it,  that  purblind  blubbering  and  litanying,  as  it 
is  seea  at  present  ;  and  the  litanying  over  scoundrels 
I  go  the  length  of  disrespecting,  and  in  some  cases  even 
of  detesting.  Yes,  my  friends,  scoundrel  is  scoundrel : 
that  remains  forever  a  fact ;  and  there  exists  not  in  the 
earth  whitewash  that  can  make  the  scoundrel  a  friend  of 
this  Universe  ;  he  remains  an  enemy  if  you  spent  your 
life  in  whitewashing  him.  He  won't  whitewasli  ;  this 
one  won't.  The  one  method  clearly  is.  That,  after 
fair  trial,  you  dissolve  partnership  with  him  ;  send  him, 


103  MODEL    PRISONS. 

in  the  name  of  Heaven,  whither  he  is  striving  all  this 
while,  and  have  done  with  him.  And,  in  a  time  like 
IJjis,  I  would  advise  you,  see  likewise  that  you  be 
speedy  about  it  !  For  there  is  immense  work,  and  of 
a  far  hopefuller  sort,  to  be  done  elsewhere. 

Alas,  alas,  to  see  once  the  '  prince  of  scoundrels,' 
the  Supreme  Scoundrel,  him  whom  of  all  men  the 
gods  liked  worst^  solemnly  laid  hold  of,  and  hung  upon 
the  gallows  in  sight  of  the  people  ;  what  a  lesson  to 
all  the  people  !  Sermons  might  be  preached  ;  the  Son 
of  Thunder  and  the  Mouth  of  Gold  might  turn  their 
periods  now  with  some  hope  ;  for  here,  in  the  most 
impressive  way,  is  a  divine  sermon  acted.  Didactic 
as  no  spoken  sermon  could  be.  Didactic,  devotional 
too  ;  —  in  awed  solemnity,  a  recognition  that  Eternal 
Justice  rules  the  world  ;  that  at  the  call  of  this,  human 
pity  shall  fall  silent,  and  man  be  stern  as  his  Master 
and  Mandatory  is  !  —  Understand  too  that  except  lipon 
a  basis  of  even  such  rigor,  sorrowful,  silent  inexorable 
as  that  of  Destiny  and  Doom,  there  is  no  true  pity 
possible.  The  pity  that  proves  so  possible  and  plenti- 
ful without  that  basis,  is  mere  ignavia  and  cowardly 
effeminacy  ;  maudlin  laxity  of  heart,  grounded  on  blink- 
ard  dimness  of  head,  —  contemptible  as  a  druid^ard's 
tears. 

To  see  our  Supreme  Scoundrel  hung  upon  the  gal- 
lows, alas,  that  is  far  from  us  just  now  !  There  is  a 
worst  man  in  England,  too,  — curious  to  think  of, — 
whom  it  would  be  inexpressibly  advantageous  to  lay 
hold  of,  and  hang,  the  first  of  all  !  But  we  do  not 
know  him  with  the  least  certainty,  the  least  approach 
even  to  a  guess,  —  such  buzzards  and  dullards  and  poor 


MODEL    PRISONS.  107 

children  of  the  Dusk  are  we,  in  spite  of  our  Statistics, 
Unshackled  Presses,  and  Torches  of  Knowledge  ;  — 
not  eagles  soaring  sunward,  not  brothers  of  the  light- 
nings and  the  radiances,  we  ;  a  dim  horn-eyed  owl- 
population,  intent  mainly  on  the  catching  of  mice  ! 
Alas,  the  supreme  scoundrel,  alike  Avith  the  supreme 
hero,  is  very  far  from  being  known.  Nor  have  we  the 
smallest  apparatus  for  dealing  with  either  of  them,  if  he 
were  known.  Our  supreme  scoundrel  sits,  I  conjec' 
ture,  well-cushioned,  in  high  places,  at  this  time ;  rolls 
softly  through  the  world,  and  lives  a  prosperous  gen- 
tleman ;  instead  of  sinking  him  in  peatbogs,  we  mount 
the  brazen  image  of  him  on  high  columns ;  such  is  the 
world's  temporary  judgment  about  its  supreme  scoun- 
drels :  a  mad  world,  my  masters.  To  get  the  supreme 
scoundrel  always  accurately  the  first  hanged,  —  this, 
which  presupposes  that  the  supreme  hero  were  always 
the  first  promoted,  this  were  precisely  the  millennium 
itself,  clear  evidence  that  the  millennium  had  come  : 
alas,  we  must  forbear  hope  of  this.  Much  water  will 
run  by  before  we  see  this  !  — 

And  yet  to  quit  all  aim  towards  it ;  to  go  blindly 
floundering  along,  wrapt  up  in  clouds  of  horsehair, 
bombazine,  and  sheepskin  officiality,  oblivious  that 
there  exists  such  an  aim:  this  is  indeed  fatal.  In 
every  human  law  there  must  either  exist  such  an  aim, 
or  else  the  law  is  not  a  human  but  a  diabolic  one. 
Diabolic,  I  say  :  no  quantity  of  bombazine,  or  lawyers' 
wigs,  three-readings,  and  solemn  trumpeting  and  bow- 
wow-ing  in  high  places  or  in  low,  can  hide  from  me 
its  frightful  infernal  tendency  ;  —  bound,  and  sinking 


108  MODEL    TRISONS. 

at  all  moments,  gradually  to  Gehenna,  this  -law;'  and 
dragging  down  much  with  it!,'  To  decree  injustice 
by  a  lain:''  inspired  Prophets  have  long  since  seen, 
what  every  clear  soul  may  still  see,  that  of  all  Anar- 
chies and  Devil-worships  there  is  none  like  this;  that 
this  is  the  'Throne  of  Iniquity '  set  up  in  the  name  of 
the  Highest,  the  human  Apotheosis  of  Anarchy  itself. 
"  Quiet  Anarchy,"  you  exultingly  say?  Yes;  quiet 
Anarchy,  which  the  longer  it  sits  '  quiet '  will  have  the 
frightfuller  account  to  settle  at  last.  For  every  doit 
of  the  account,  as  I  often  say,  will  have  to  be  settled 
one  day,  as  sure  as  God  lives.  Principal  and  compound 
interest  rigorously  computed  ;  and  the  interest  is  at 
a  terrible  rate  per  cent  in  these  cases  !  —  Alas,  the 
aspect  of  certain  beatified  Anarchies,  sitting  '  quiet ;  ' 
and  of  others  in  a  state  of  infernal  explosion  for 
sixty  years  back  :  this,  the  one  view  our  Europe  offers 
at  present,  makes  these  days  very  sad.  — 

My  unfortunate  philanthropic  friends,  it  is  this  long- 
continued  oblivion  of  the  soul  of  law  that  has  reduced 
the  Criminal  Question  to  such  a  pass  among  us.  Many 
other  things  have  come,  and  are  coming,  for  the  same 
sad  reason,  to  a  pass  !  Not  the  supreme  scoundrel 
have  our  laws  aimed  at  ;  but  in  an  uncertain  fitful 
manner,  at  the  inferior  or  lowest  scoundrel,  who  robs 
shop-tills  and  puts  the  skin  of  mankind  in  danger. 
How  can  parliament  get  through  the  Criminal  Ques- 
tion? Parliament,  oblivious  of  Heavenly  Law,  will  find 
itself  in  hopeless  reductio  ad  ahsurduni  in  regard  to  in- 
numerable other  questions,  —  in  regard  to  all  questions 
whatsoever  by  ani  by.     There  will  be  no   existence 


MODEL    PRISONS.  109 

possible  for  Parliament  on  these  current  terms.  Par- 
liament, in  its  lawmakings,  must  really  try  to  attain 
some  vision  again  of  what  Heaven's  Laws  are.  A 
thing  not  easy  to  do ;  a  thing  requiring  sad  sincerity 
of  heart,  reverence,  pious  earnestness,  valiant  manful 
wisdom  ;  — qualities  not  overabundant  in  Parliament 
just  now,  nor  out  of  it,  I  fear. 

Adieu,  my  friends.  My  anger  against  you  is  gone  ; 
my  sad  reflections  on  you,  and  on  the  depths  to 
which  you  and  I  and  all  of  us  are  simk  in  these 
strange  times,  are  not  to  be  uttered  at  present.  You 
would  have  saved  the  Sarawak  Pirates,  then  ?  The 
Ahnighty  Maker  is  wroth  that  the  Sarawak  cut- 
throats, with  their  poisoned  spears,  are  away  ?  What 
must  his  wrath  be  that  the  Thirty-thousand  Needle- 
women are  still  here,  and  the  question  of  '  prevenient 
grace  '  not  yet  settled  !  O  my  friends,  in  sad  earnest, 
sad  and  deadly  earnest,  there  much  needs  that  God 
would  mend  all  this,  and  that  we  should  help  him  to 
mend  it!  —  And  don't  you  think,  for  one  thing, 
'  Farmer  Hodge's  horses  '  in  the  Sugar  Islands  are 
pretty  well  'emancipated'  now?  My  clear  opinion 
farther  is,  we  had  better  quit  the  Scoundrel-province 
of  Reform  ;  better  close  that  under  hatches,  in  some 
rapid  summary  manner,  and  go  elsewhither  with  our 
Reform  eiforts.  A  whole  world,  for  want  of  Reform, 
is  drowning  and  sinking  ;  threatening  to  swamp 
itself  into  a  Stygian  quagmire,  uninhabitable  by  any 
noble-minded  man.  Let  us  to  the  wellheads,  I  say  ; 
to  the  chief  fountains  of  these  waters  of  bitterness  ; 
and  there  strike  home  and  dig  !  To  puddle  in  the 
10 


110  MODEL    PRISONS. 

embouchures  and  drowned  outskirts,  and  ulterior  and 
ultimate  issues  and  cloacas  of  the  affair,  what  profit 
can  there  be  in  that  ?  Nothing  to  be  saved  there ; 
nothing  to  be  fished-up  there,  except,  with  endless 
peril  and  spread  of  pestilence,  a  miscellany  of  broken 
v/aifs  and  dead  dogs  !  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  quit 
that ! 


DOWNING    STREET 


From  all  corners  of  the  wide  British  Dominion  there 
rises  one  complaint  against  the  ineffectual  it  y  of  what 
are  nicknamed  onr  'redtape'  establishments,  our 
Government  Offices,  Colonial  Office,  Foreign  Office, 
and  the  others,  in  Downing  Street  and  the  neighbor- 
hood. To  me  individually  these  branches  of  human 
business  are  little  known  ;  but  every  British  citizen 
and  reflective  passer-by  has  occasion  to  wonder  much, 
and  inquire  earnestly,  concerning  them.  To  all  men 
it  is  evident  that  the  social  interests  of  One  hundred 
and  fifty  Millions  of  us  depend  on  the  mysterious 
industry  there  carried  on ;  and  likewise  that  the  dis- 
satisfaction with  it  is  great,  universal,  and  continually 
increasing  in  intensity,  —  in  fact,  mounting,  we 
might  say,  to  the  pitch  of  settled  despair. 

Every  colony,  every  agent  for  a  master  colonial, 
has  his  tragic  tale  to  tell  you  of  his  sad  experiences 
in  the  Colonial  Office ;  what  blind  obstructions,  fatal 
indolences,  pedantries,  stupidities,  on  the  right  and  on 
the  left,  he  had  to  do  battle  with ;  what  a  world-wide 
jungle  of  redtape,  inhabited  by  doleful  creatures,  deaf 
or  nearly  so  to  human  reason  or  entreat}'',  he  had  en- 
tered on  ;  and  how  he  paused  in  amazement,  almost 


112  DOWNING    STREET. 

in  despair ;  passionately  appealed  now  to  this  doleful 
creature,  now  to  that,  and  to  the  dead  redtape  jungle, 
and  to  the  living  Universe  itself,  and  to  tlie  Voices 
and  to  the  Silences  ;  —  and  on  the  whole  fouud  that 
it  was  an  adventure,  in  sorrowful  fact,  equal  to  the 
fabulous  ones  by  old  knights-errant  against  dragons 
and  wizards  in  enchanted  wildernesses  and  waste 
howling  solitudes  ;  not  achievable  except  by  nearly 
superhuman  exercise  of  all  the  four  cardinal  virtues, 
and  unexpected  favor  of  the  special  blessing  of 
Heaven.  His  adventure  achieved  or  found  unachieva- 
ble, he  has  returned  with  experiences  new  to  him  in 
the  affairs  of  men.  What  this  Colonial  Office,  inhab- 
iting the  head  of  Downing  Street,  really  loas^  and 
had  to  do,  or  try  doing,  in  God's  practical  Earth,  he 
could  not  by  any  means  precisely  get  to  know  ,•  be- 
lieves that  it  does  not  itself  in  the  least  precisely 
know.  Believes  that  nobody  knows  ;  that  it  is  a 
mystery,  a  kiiid  of  Heathen  myth  ;  and  stranger  than 
any  piece  of  the  old  mythological  Pantheon  ;  for  it 
practically  presides  over  the  destinies  of  many  mil- 
lions of  living  men. 

Such  is  his  report  of  the  Colonial  Office  :  and  if 
we  oftener  hear  such  a  report  of  that  than  vre  do  of 
the  Home  Office,  Foreign  Office  or  the  rest,  —  the 
reason  probably  is,  that  Colonies  excite  more  atten- 
tion at  present,  than  any  of  our  other  interests.  The 
Forty  Colonies,  it  appears,  are  all  pretty  like  rebelling 
jUst  now ;  and  are  to  be  pacified  with  constitutions  ; 
luckier  constitutions,  let  us  hope,  than  some  late  ones 
have  been.  Loj^al  Canada,  for  instance,  had  to  quench 
a  rebellion  the  other  year  ;  and  this  year,  in  virtue  of 


DOWNING    STREET.  113 

its  constitution,  it  is  called  upon  to  pay  the  rebels  their 
damages  ;  which  surely  is  a  rather  surprising  result, 
however  constitutional  !  — Men  have  rents  and  mou- 
eys  dependent  in  the  Colonies  !  Emigration  schemes, 
Black  Emancipations,  New  Zealand  and  other 
schemes ;  and  feel  and  publish  more  emphatically 
what  their  Downing  Street  woes  in  these  respects 
have  been. 

Were  the  state  of  poor  salloio  English  ploughers 
and  weavers,  wiiat  we  may  call  the  Sallow  or  Yellow 
Emancipation  interest,  as  much  an  object  with  Exe- 
ter-Hall Philanthropists,  as  that  of  the  Black  block- 
heads now  all  emancipated,  and  going  at  large  with- 
out work,  or  need  of  working,  in  West  India  clover, 
(and  fattening  very  mnch  in  it,  one  delights  to  hear,) 
—  then  perhaps  the  Home  Office,  its  huge  virtual 
task  better  understood,  and  its  small  actual  perform- 
ance better  seen  into,  might  be  found  still  more  defi- 
cient, and  behind  the  wants  of  the  age,  than  the 
Colonial  itself  is. 

How  it  stands  with  the  Foreign  Office,  again,  one 
still  less  knows.  Seizures  of  Sapienza,  and  the  like 
sudden  appearances  of  Britain  in  the  character  of 
Hercules-Harlequin,  waving,  with  big  bully-voice, 
her  huge  sword-of-sharpness  over  held-mice,  and  in 
the  air  making  horrid  circles  (horrid  catherine-wheels 
and  death-discs  and  of  metallic  terror  from  said  huge 
sword)  to  see  how  they  will  like  it,  — do  from  time 
to  time  astonish  the  world,  in  a  not  pleasant  manner. 
Hercules-Harlequin,  the  Attorney  Triumphant,  the 
World's  Busy-Body  :  none  of  these  are  parts  this  Na- 
tion has  a  turn  for :  she,  if  you  consulted  her,  would 
10* 


114  DOWNING    STREET. 

ratlier  7iot  i)lay  these  parts,  but  another  !  Seizures  of 
Sapienza.  correspondences  with  Sotomayor,  remon- 
strances to  Otho  King  of  Athens,  fleets  hanging  by 
their  anchor  in  behalf  of  the  Majesty  of  Portugal  ; 
and  in  short  the  whole,  or  at  present,  very  nearly  the 
whole,  of  that  industry  of  protocolling,  diplomatizing, 
remonstrating,  admonishing,  and  '■  having  the  honor 
to  be,' — has  sunk  justly  in  public  estimation  to  a 
very  low  figure. 

For  in  fact,  it  is  reasonably  asked.  What  vital  in- 
terest has  England  in  any  cause  now  deciding  itself 
in  foreign  parts  ?  Once  there  was  a  Papistry  and 
Protestantism,  important  as  life  eternal  and  death 
eternal  ;  more  lately  there  Avas  an  interest  of  Civil 
Order  and  Horrors  of  the  French  Revolution,  impor- 
tant at  least  as  rentroU  and  preservation  of  the  game : 
but  now  what  is  there  ?  No  cause  in  which  any  god 
or  man  of  this  British  Nation  can  be  thought  to  be 
concerned.  Sham-kingship,  now  recognized  and 
even  self-recognized  everywhere  to  be  sham,  wrestles 
and  struggles  with  mere  ballot-box  Anarchy  ;  not  a 
pleasant  spectacle  to  British  minds.  Both  parties  in 
the  wrestle  professing  earnest  wishes  of  peace  to  us, 
what  have  we  to  do  with  it  except  answer  earnestly, 
"  Peace,  yes  certainly,"  and  mind  our  aflairs  else- 
where. The  British  Nation  has  no  concern  with  that 
indispensable  sorrowful  and  shameful  wrestle  now 
going  on  everywhere  in  foreign  parts.  The  British 
Nation  already,  by  self-experience  centuries  old,  un- 
derstands all  that  ;  was  lucky  enough  to  transact  the 
greater  part  of  that,  in  noble  ancient  ages,  while  the 
wrestle  had  not  yet  become  a  shameful  one,  but  on 


I  OWNING    STREET.  115 

hoth  sides  of  it  there  was  wisdom,  virtue,  heroic  noble- 
iiess  fnutful  to  all  time,  —  thrice-hicky  British  Nation  ! 
I'lie  Biitish  Nation,  I  say,  has  nothing  to  learn  there  ; 
iias  now  quite  another  set  of  lessons  to  learn,  far  ahead 
of  Avhat  is  going  on  there.  Sad  example  there,  of 
what  the  issue  is,  and  how  inevitable  and  how  immi- 
nent, might  admonish  the  British  Nation  to  be  speedy 
with  its  new  lessons  ;  to  bestir  itself,  as  men  in  peril 
of  conflagration  do,  with  the  neighboring  houses  all 
on  fire  !  To  obtain,  for  its  own  very  pressing  behoof, 
if  by  possibility  it  could,  some  real  Captaincy  instead 
of  an  imaginary  one  ;  to  remove  resolutely,  and  re- 
place by  a  better  sort,  its  own  peculiar  species  of 
teaching  and  guiding  histrios  of  various  name,  who 
here  too  are  numerous  exceedingly,  and  much  in  need 
of  gentle  removal,  while  the  play  is  still  good,  and 
the  comedy  has  not  yet  become  tragic ;  —  and  to  be 
a  little  swift  about  it  withal  ;  and  so  to  escape  the 
otherwise  inevitable  evil  day  !  This  Britain  might 
learn  :  but  she  does  not  need  a  protccoUing  establish- 
ment, with  much  '  having  the  honor  to  be,"  to  teach 
it  her. 

No:  —  she  has,  in  fact,  certain  cottons,  hardwares 
and  suchlike  to  sell  in  foreign  parts,  and  certain  wines, 
Portugal  oranges,  Baltic  tar  and  other  products  to  buy  ; 
and  does  need,  I  suppose,  some  kind  of  Consul,  or  ac- 
credited agent,  accessible  to  British  voyagers,  here  and 
there,  in  the  chief  cities  of  the  continent  :  through 
which  functionary,  or  through  the  penny-post,  if  sjie 
had  any  sjjecific  message  to  foreign  courts,  it  would 
be  easy  and  proper  to  transmit  the  same.  Special 
message-carriers,  to  be  still  called  Ambassadors,  if  the 


lio  DOWNING    STREET. 

name  gratified  them,  could  be  sent  when  occasion 
great  enough  demanded  ;  not  sent  when  it  did  not. 
But  for  all  purposes  of  a  resident  ambassador,  I  hear 
^lersons  extensively  and  well  acquainted  among  our 
foreign  embassies  at  this  date  declare,  That  a  well- 
selected  Times  reporter  or  '  own  correspondent '  or- 
dered to  reside  in  foreign  capitals,  and  keep  his  eyes 
open,  and  (though  sparingly)  his  pen  going,  would  in 
reality  be  much  more  effective — and  surely  we  see 
well,  he  would  come  a  good  deal  cheaper !  Consid- 
erably cheaper  in  expense  of  money ;  and  in  expense 
of  falsity  and  grimacing  hypocrisy,  (of  which  no  hu- 
man arithmetic  can  count  the  ultimate  cost)  incalcu- 
lably cheaper !  If  this  is  the  fact,  why  not  treat  it 
as  such  ?  If  this  is  so  in  any  measure,  we  had  better 
in  that  measure  admit  it  to  be  so !  The  time,  I  believe, 
has  come  for  asking  with  considerable  severity.  How 
far  it  is  so  ?  Nay  there  are  men  now  current  in  polit- 
ical society,  men  of  weight  though  also  of  wit,  who 
have  been  heard  to  say,  "  That  there  was  but  one 
reform  for  the  Foreign  Office,  —  to  set  a  live  coal 
under  it,"  and  with,  of  course,  a  fire-brigade  which 
could  prevent  the  undue  spread  of  the  devouring  ele- 
ment into  neighboring  houses,  let  that  reform  it !  In 
such  odor  is  the  Foreign  Office  too,  if  it  were  not 
that  the  Public,  oppressed  and  nearly  stifled  with  a 
mere  infinitude  of  bad  odors,  neglects  this  one, — in 
fact,  being  able  nearly  always  to  avoid  the  street 
where  it  is,  escapes  this  one,  and  (except  a  passing 
curse,  once  in  the  quarter  or  so)  as  good  as  forgets  the 
existence  of  it. 

Such,  from  sad  personal  experience    and  credited 


^  DOWNING    STREET.  117 

prevailing  rumor,  is  the  exoteric  public  conviction 
about  these  sublime  establishments  in  Downing  Street 
and  the  neighborhood, — the  esoteric  mysteries  of  which 
are  indeed  still  held  sacred  by  the  initiated,  but  be- 
lieved by  the  world  to  be  mere  Dalai-Lama  pills,  man- 
ufactured let  not  refined  lips  hint  how,  and  quite  iin 
salvatory  to  mankind.  Every  one  may  remark  what 
a  hope  animates  the  eyes  of  any  circle,  when  it  is  re- 
ported or  even  confidently  asserted,  that  Sir  Robert 
Peel  has  in  his  mind  privately  resolved  to  go,  one  day, 
into  that  stable  of  King  Augis,  which  appals  human 
hearts,  so  rich  is  it,  high-piled  with  the  droppings  of 
two  hundred  years  ;  and  Hercules-like  to  load  a  thou- 
sand night-wagons  from  it,  and  turn  running  water  into 
it,  and  swash  and  shovel  at  it,  and  never  leave  it  till 
the  antique  pavement,  and  real  basis  of  the  matter 
show  itself  clean  again  !  In  any  intelligent  circle  such 
a  rumor,  like  the  first  break  of  day  to  men  in  dark- 
ness, enlightens  all  eyes;  and  each  says  devoutly, 
^^^axitis,  O  ye  righteous  Powers  that  have  pity  on 
us!  All  England  grateful,  with  kindling  looks,  will 
rise  in  the  rear  of  him,  and  from  its  deepest  heart  bid 
him  good  speed  !  " 

For  it  is  universally  felt  that  some  esotei^ic  man  well 
acquainted  with  the  mysteries  and  properties  good  and 
evil  of  the  administrative  stable,  is  the  fittest  to  reform 
it,  nay  can  alone  reform  it  otherwise  than  by  sheer 
violence  and  destruction,  which  is  a  way  we  would 
avoid  ;  that  in  fact  Sir  Robert  Peel  is,  at  present,  the 
one  likely  or  possible  man  to  reform  it.  And  secondly 
it  is  felt  that  'reform'  in  that  Downing  Street  de- 
partment of  affairs  is  precisely  the  reform  which  were 


118  DOWNING     STREET. 

worth  all  others;  that  those  administrative  establish- 
ments in  Downing  Street  are  really  the  Government 
of  this  huge  nngoverned  Empire;  that  to  clean  out 
the  dead  pedantries,  unveracities,  indolent  somnolent 
impotencies,  and  accumulated  dung-mountains  there, 
is  the  beginning  of  all  nractical  good  whatsoever.  Yes, 
get  down  once  again  lo  the  actual  pavement  of  that  ; 
ascertain  what  the  thing  is,  and  was  before  dung  ac- 
cumulated in  it  ;  and  Avhat  it  should  and  may,  and 
must  for  the  life's  sake  of  this  Empire,  henceforth  be- 
come :  here  clearly  lies  the  heart  of  the  whole  matter. 
Political  reform,  if  this  be  not  reformed,  is  nought  and 
a  mere  mockery. 

What  England  wants,  and  Avill  require  to  have,  or 
sink  in  nameless  anarchies,  is  not  a  Reformed  Parlia- 
ment, meaning  thereby  a  Parliament  elected  accord- 
ing to  the  six  or  the  four  or  any  other  number  of 
'points'  and  cunningly-devised  improvements  in 
hustings  mechanism,  but  a  Reformed  Executive  or 
Sovereign  Body  of  Rulers  and  Administrators,  — 
some  improved  method,  innumerable  improvements 
in  our  poor  blind  methods,  of  getting  hold  of  these. 
Not  a  better  Talking-Apparatus,  the  best  conceivable 
Talking-Apparatus  would  do  very  little  for  us  at  pres- 
ent ;  — but  an  infinitely  better  Acting-Apparatus,  the 
benefits  of  which  would  be  invaluable  now  and 
henceforth.  The  practical  question  puts  itself  with 
ever-increasing  stringency  to  all  English  minds:  Can 
wc,  by  no  industry,  energy,  utmost  expenditure  of 
human  ingenuity,  and  passionate  invocation  of  the 
Heavens  and  the  Earth,  get  to  attain  some  twelve  or 
ten  or  six  men  to  manaQ:e  the  affairs  of  this  Nation  in 


DOWNING    STREET. 


119 


Downing  Street,  and  the  chief  posts  elsewhere,  who 
are  abler  for  the  work  than  those  we  have  been  used 
to,  this  long  while  ?  P^r  it  is  really  a  heroic  work, 
and  cannot  be  done  by  histrios,  and  dexterous  talkers 
having  the  honor  to  be  :  it  is  a  heavy  and  appalling 
work;  and,  at  tiie  starting  of  it  especially,  will 
require  Herculean  men  ;  such  mountains  of  pedant 
exiivicE  and  obscene  owl-droppings  have  accumulated 
in  those  regions,  long  the  habitation  of  doleful  crea- 
tures ;  the  old  jmvemeitfs^  the  natural  facts  and  real 
essential  functions  of  those  establishments,  have  not 
been  seen  by  eyes  for  these  two-hundred  years  last 
past !  Herculean  men  acquainted  with  the  virtues 
of  running  water,  and  with  .the  divine  necessity  of 
getting  down  to  the  clear  pavements  and  old  veraci- 
ties ;  who  tremble  before  no  amount  of  pedant  exuvias, 
no  loudest  shrieking  of  doleful  creatures  ;  who  trem- 
ble only  to  live,  themselves,  like  inane  phantasms,  and 
to  leave  their  life  as  a  paltry  contribution  to  the  guano 
mountains,  and  not  as  a  divine  eternal  protest  against 
them  ! 

These  are  the  kind  of  men  we  want ;  these,  the 
nearest  possible  approximation  to  these,  are  the  men 
we  must  find  and  have,  or  go  bankrupt  altogether, 
for  the  concern  as  it  is  will  evidently  not  hold 
long  together.  How  true  is  this  of  Crabbe  :  "  Men 
sit  in  parliament  eighty-three  hours  per  week,  debat- 
ing about  many  things.  Men  sit  in  Downing  Street, 
doing  protocols,  Syrian  treaties,  Greek  questions,  Por- 
tuguese, Spanish,  French,  Egyptian  and  Ethiopian 
questions  ;  dexterously  writing  despatches,  and  hav- 
ing the  honor  to  be.     Not  a  question -of  them  is  at  all 


120  DOWNING    STREET. 

pressing  in  comparison  with  the  English  question, 
Pacifico  the  nriiracnlous  Gibraltar  Jew  has  been  hus- 
tled by  some  populace  in  Greece  ;  upon  him  let  the 
British  Lion  drop,  very  rapidly  indeed,  a  constitu- 
tional tear.  Radetzky  is  said  to  be  advancing  upon 
Milan  ;  —  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  and  perhaps  it  does 
deserve  a  despatch,  or  friendly  letter,  once  and  away  : 
but  the  Irish  Giant,  named  of  Despair,  is  advancing 
upon  London  itself,  layino^  waste  all  English  cities, 
towns  and  villages  ;  that  is  the  interesting  Govern- 
ment-despatch of  the  day  !  I  notice  him  in  Piccadilly  ; 
blue-visaged,  thatched  in  rags,  a  blue  child  on  each 
arm ;  hunger-driven,  wide-mouthed,  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour  :  he,  missioned  by  the  just  Heavens, 
too  truly  and  too  sadly  their  'divine  missionary' 
come  at  last  in  this  authoritative  manner,  will  throw 
us  all  into  Doubting  Castle,  I  perceive  !  That  is  the 
phenomenon  worth  protocoUing  about,  and  writing 
despatches  upon,  and  thinking  of  with  all  one's  fac- 
ulty day  and  night,  if  one  wishes  to  have  the  honor 
to  be  — any  thing  but  a  Phantasm  Governor  of  Eng- 
land just  now  !  I  entreat  your  Lordship's  all  but 
undivided  attention  to  that  domestic  L'ish  Giant, 
named  of  Despair,  for  a  great  many  years  to  come. 
Prophecy  of  him  there  has  long  been  ;  bnt  now  by 
the  rot  of  the  potato  (blessed  be  the  just  gods,  who 
send  us  either  swift  death  or  some  beginning  of  cure 
at  last !)  he  is  here  in  person,  and  there  is  no  denying 
him,  or  disregarding  him  any  more  ;  and  woe  to  the 
public  watchman  that  ignores  kim,  and  sees  Pacifico 
the  Gibraltar  Jew  instead  ?  " 


DOWXIXG    STREET. 


121 


What  these  strange  Entities  in  Downing  Street 
intrinsically  are  ;  who  made  them,  why  they  were 
made  ;  how  they  do  their  function  ;  and  what  tlieir 
function,  so  huge  in  appearance,  may  in  net  result 
amount  to,  —  is  probably  known  to  no  mortal.  The 
unofficial  mind  passes  by  in  dark  wonder;  not  pre- 
tending to  know.  Tlie  official  mind  must  not  blab  ; 
—  the  official  mind,  restricted  to  its  own  square  foot 
of  territory  in  the  vast  labyrinth,  is  probably  itself 
dark,  and  unable  to  blab.  We  see  the  outcome  ;  the 
mechanism  we  do  not  see.  How  the  tailors  clip  and 
sew,  in  that  sublime  sweating  establishment  of  theirs, 
we  know  not :  that  the  coat  they  bring  us  out  is  the 
sorrowfullest  fantastic  mockery  of  a  coat,  a  mere 
intricate  artistic  network  of  traditions  and  formalities, 
an  embroiled  reticulation  made  of  web-listings,  and 
superannuated  thrums  and  tatters,  endurable  to  no 
grown  Nation  as  a  coat,  is  mournfully  clear !  — 

Two  kinds  of  fundamental  error  are  supposable  in 
such  a  set  of  Offices;  these  two,  acting  and  reacting, 
are  the  vice  of  all  inefficient  Offices  whatever.  Firstj 
that  the  work,  such  as  it  may  be,  is  ill  done  in  these 
establishments.  That  it  is  delayed,  neglected,  slurred 
over,  committed  to  hands  that  cannot  do  it  well ;  that, 
in  a  word,  the  questions  sent  tliither  are  not  wisely 
handled,  but  unwisely  ;  not  decided  truly  and  rapidly, 
but  with  delays  and  wrong  at  last:  which  is  the 
principal  character,  and  the  infallible  result,  of  an 
insufficient  Intellect  being  set  to  decide  them.  Or 
second^  what  is  still  fataller,  the  work  done  there  may 
itself  be  qu'te    the  wronor    kind  of  work.     Not  the 


11 


J22  DOWNING    STREET. 

kind  of  supervision  and  direction  which  Colonics, 
and  other  such  interests,  Home  or  Foreign,  do  by  the 
nature  of  them  require  from  the  Central  Government  ; 
not  that,  but  a  quite  other  kind  !  The  Sotomayor 
correspondence,  for  example,  is  considered  by  many 
persons  not  to  be  mismanaged  merely,  but  to  be  a 
tiling  which  should  never  have  been  managed  at  all  ; 
a  quite  superfluous  concern,  which  and  the  like  of 
which  the  British  Government  has  almost  no  call  to 
get  into,  at  this  new  epoch  of  time.  And  not  Soto- 
mayor only,  nor  Sapienza  only,  in  regard  to  that  For- 
eign Office,  but  innumerable  other  things,  if  our 
witty  friend  of  the  '  live  coal '  have  reason  in  him  ! 
Of  the  Colonial  Office,  too,  it  is  urged  that  the  ques- 
tions they  decide  and  operate  upon  are,  in  very  great 
part,  questions  which  they  never  should  have  med- 
dled with,  but  almost  all  of  which  should  have  been 
decided  in  the  Colonies  themselves, — Mother  Coun- 
try or  Colonial  Office  reserving  its  energy  for  a  quite 
other  class  of  objects,  which  are  terribly  neglected 
just  now. 

These  are  the  two  vices  that  beset  Government 
Offices  ;  both  of  them  originating  in  insufficient 
Intellect,  —  that  sad  insufficiency  from  which,  di- 
rectly or  indirectly,  all  evil  whatsoever  springs  ! 
And  these  two  vices  act  and  react,  so  that  where  the 
one  is,  the  other  is  sure  to  be  ;  and  each  encouraging 
the  growth  of  the  other,  both  (if  some  cleaning  of  the 
Augis  stable  have  not  intervened  for  a  long  while) 
will  be  found  in  frightful  development.  You  cannot 
have  your  work  well  done,  if  the  work  be  not  of  a 
right  kind,  if  it  be  not  work  prescribed  by  the  law 


DOWNING    STREET.  123 

of  Nature  as  well  as  by  the  rules  of  the  otfice.  Lazi- 
ness, which  lies  in  wait  round  all  human  labor- 
offices,  will  in  that  case  infallibly  leak  in,  and  vitiate 
the  doing  of  the  work.  The  work  is  bat  idle  ;  if  the 
doing  of  it  will  but  pass,  what  need  of  more  ?  The 
essential  problem,  as  the  rules  of  office  prescribe  it 
for  you.  if  Nature  and  Fact  say  nothing,  is  that  your 
work  be  got  to  pass ;  if  the  work  itself  is  worth 
nothing,  or  little  or  an  uncertain  quantity,  what  more 
can  gods  or  men  require  of  it,  or  above  all  can  I  who 
am  the  doer  of  it  require,  but  that  it  be  got  to  pass  ? 

And  now  enters  another  fatal  effect,  the  mother  of 
ever-new  mischiefs,  which  renders  Avell-doing  or 
improvement  impossible,  and  drives  bad  every  where 
continually  into  worse.  The  work  being  what  we 
see,  a  stupid  subaltern  will  do  as  well  as  a  gifted  one  ; 
the  essential  point  is,  that  he  be  a  quiet  one,  and  do 
not  bother  me  who  have  the  driving  of  him.  Nay, 
for  this  latter  object,  is  not  a  certain  height  of  intel- 
ligence even  dangerous  ?  I  want  no  mettled  Arab 
horse,  with  his  flashing  glances,  arched  neck  and 
elastic  step,  to  draw  my  wretched  sand-cart  through 
the  streets  ;  a  broken  grassfed  galloway,  Irish  garron, 
or  painful  ass  with  nothing  in  the  belly  of  him  but 
patience  and  furze,  will  do  it  safelier  for  me,  if  more 
slowly.  Nay  I  myself,  am  I  the  worse  for  being  of  a 
feeble  order  of  intelligence  ;  what  the  irreverent 
specnlative  world  calls  barren,  redtapish,  limited,  and 
even  intrinsically  dark  and  small,  and  if  it  must  be 
said,  stupid  ?  —  To  such  a  climax  does  it  come  in  all 
Government  and  other  Offices,  where  Human  Stupid- 
ity has  once  introduced  itself  (as  it  will  everywhere 


124  'DOWNING    STREET. 

do,)  and  no  Scavenger  God  intervenes.  The  work, 
at  first  of  some  worth,  is  ill  done,  and  becomes  of  less 
Avorth  and  of  ever  less,  and  finally  of  none ;  the 
worthless  work  can  now  afford  to  be  ill  done  ;  and 
Hnman  Stnpidity,  at  a  double  geometrical  ratio, 
with  frightful  expansion  grows  and  accumulates, — 
towards  the  unendurable. 

The  reforming  Hercules,  Sir  Robert  Peel  or  who- 
ever he  is  to  be,  that  enters  Downing  Street,  will  ask 
himself  this  question  first  of  all,  What  work  is  now 
necessary,  not  in  form  and  by  traditionary  use  and 
wont,  but  in  very  fact,  for  the  vital  interests  of  the 
British  Nation,  to  be  done  here  ?  The  second  ques- 
tion. How  to  get  it  well  done,  and  to  keep  the  best 
hands  doing  it  well,  will  be  greatly  simplified  by  a 
good  answer  to  that.  Oh  for  an  eye  that  could  see 
in  those  hideous  mazes,  and  a  heart  that  could  dare 
and  do  !  Strenuous  faithful  scrutiny,  not  of  what  is 
Ihoiight  to  be  what  in  the  redtape  regions,  but  of  what 
really  is  what  in  the  realms  of  Fact  and  Nature  her- 
self; deep-seeing,  wise  and  courageous  eyes,  that 
could  look  through  innumerable  cobweb  veils,  and  de- 
tect what  fact  or  no-fact  lies  at  heart  of  them,  —  how 
invaluable  these  !  For,  alas,  it  is  long  since  such 
eyes  were  much  in  the  habit  of  looking  steadfastly  at 
any  department  of  our  affairs  ;  and  poor  commonplace 
creatures,  helping  themselves  along,  in  the  way  of 
makeshift,  from  year  to  year,  in  such  an  element,  do 
wonderful  works  indeed.  Such  creatures,  like  moles, 
are  safe  only  underground,  and  their  engineerings 
there  become  very  dasdalean.  In  fact,  such  unfortu- 
nate persons  have  no  resource  but  to  become  what  we 


DOWNING    STREET.  125 

call  Pedants  ;  to  ensconce  themselves  in  a  safe  world 
of  habitudes,  of  applicable  or  inapplicable  traditions  ; 
not  coveting,  rather  avoiding  the  general  daylight  of 
common-sense  as  very  extraneons  to  them  and  tlieir 
procedure  ;  by  long  persistence  in  which  course  they 
become  Completed  Pedants,  hide-bonnd,  impenetrable, 
able  to  defy  the  hostile  extraneons  element  :  an 
alarming  kind  of  men.  Such  men,  left  to  themselves 
for  a  century  or  two,  in  any  Colonial,  Foreign,  or 
other  Office,  will  make  a  terrible  affair  of  it  ! 

For  the  one  enemy  we  have  in  this  Universe  is  Stu- 
pidity, Darkness  of  Mind  ;  of  whLch  darkness,  again, 
there  are  many  sources,  every  sin  a  source,  and  prob- 
ably self-conceit  the  chief  source.  Darkness  of  mind, 
in  every  kind  and  variety,  does  to  a  really  tragic  ex- 
tent abound  :  but  of  all  the  kinds  of  darkness,  surely 
the  Pedant  darkness,  which  asserts  and  believes  itself 
to  be  ligJU^  is  the  most  formidable  to  mankind  !  For 
empires  or  for  individuals  there  is  but  one  class  of  men 
to  be  trembled  at  ;  and  that  is  the  Stupid  Class,  the 
class  that  cannot  see,  who  alas  are  they  mainly  that 
will  not  see.  A  class  of  mortals  under  which  as  ad- 
njinistrators,  kings,  priests,  diplomatists,  &c.,  the  in- 
terests of  mankind  in  every  European  country  have 
sunk  overloaded,  as  under  universal  nightmare,  near 
to  extinction  ;  and  indeed  are  at  this  moment  convul- 
sively writhing,  decided  either  to  throw  off  the  un- 
blessed superincumbent  nightmare,  or  roll  themselves 
and  it  to  the  Abyss.  Vain  to  reform  Parliament,  to 
invent  ballot-boxes,  to  reform  this  or  that  ;  the  real 
Administration,  practical  Management  of  the  Com- 
monwealthj  goes  all  awry  ;  choked  up  with  long  ac- 
11* 


J26  DOWNING    STREET. 

ciimnlaled  pedantrieSj  so  that  your  appointed  workers 
have  been  reduced  to  work  as  moles  ;  and  it  is  one 
vast  boring  and  connterboring,  on  the  part  of  eyeless 
persons  irreverently  called  stupid ;  and  a  dajdalean 
bewilderment,  writing  '  impossible '  on  all  efforts 
or  proposals,  supervenes. 


The  State  itself,  not  in  Downing  Street  alone  but 
in  every  department  of  it,  has  altered  much  from  what 
it  was  in  past  times;  and  it  will  again  have  to  alter 
very  much,  to  alter  I  think  from  top  to  bottom,  if  it 
means  to  continue  existing  in  the  times  that  are  now 
coming  and  come  ! 

The  State,  left  to  shape  itself  by  dim  pedantries 
and  traditions,  without  distinctness  of  conviction,  or 
purpose  beyond  that  of  helping  itself  over  the  difficulty 
of  the  hour,  has  become,  instead  of  a  luminous  vital- 
ity permeating  with  its  light  all  provinces  of  our 
affairs,  a  most  monstrous  agglomerate  of  inanities,  as 
little  adapted  for  the  actual  wants  of  a  modern  com- 
munity as  the  worst  citizen  need  wish.  The  thing 
it  is  doing  is  by  no  means  the  thing  we  want  to  have 
done.  What  we  want !  Let  the  dullest  British  man 
endeavor  to  raise  in  his  mind  this  question,  and  ask 
himself  in  sincerity  what  the  British  Nation  wants  at 
this  time.  Is  it  to  have,  with  endless  jargoning,  de- 
bating, motioning  and  counter-motioning,  a  settlement 
effected  between  the  Honorable  Mr.  This  and  the 
Honorable  Mr.  That,  as  to  their  respective  pretensions 
to  ride  the  high  horse?  Really  it  is  unimportant 
which  of  them  ride  it.     Going  upon  past  experience 


DOWNING    STREET.  127 

long  continued  now,  I  should  say  with  brevity, 
"Either  of  them — Neither  of  them."  If  our  Gov- 
ernment is  to  be  a  No-Government,  what  is  the 
matter  who  administers  it  ?  Fling  an  orange-skin 
into  St.  James's  Street  ;  let  the  man  it  hits  be  your 
man.  He,  if  you  breed  him  a  little  to  it,  and  tie  the 
due  official  bladders  to  his  ankles,  will  do  as  well  as 
another  this  sublime  problem  of  balancing  himself 
upon  the  vortexes,  with  the  long  loaded  pole  in  his 
hands ;  and  will,  v/ith  straddling  painful  gestures, 
float  hither  and  thither,  walking  the  waters  in  that 
singular  manner  for  a  little  while,  as  well  as  his  fore- 
goers  did,  till  he  also  capsize,  and  be  left  floating  feet 
uppermost  ;  after  which  you  choose  another. 

What  an  immense  pother,  by  parlianienting  and 
palavering  in  all  corners  of  your  empire,  to  decide 
such  a  question  as  that  !  I  say,  if  that  is  the  func- 
tion, almost  any  human  creature  can  learn  to  dis- 
charge it :  fling  out  your  orange-skin  again  ;  and  save 
an  incalculable  labor,  and  an  emission  of  nonsense 
and  falsity,  and  electioneering  beer  and  bribery  and 
balderdash,  which  is  terrible  to  think  of,  in  deciding. 
Your  National  Parliament,  in  so  far  as  it  has  only  that 
question  to  decide,  may  be  considered  as  an  enormous 
National  Palaver,  existing  mainly  for  imaginary  pur- 
poses ;  and  certain,  in  these  days  of  abbreviated  labor, 
to  get  itself  sent  home  again  to  its  partridge-shootings, 
fox-huntings,  —  and,  above  all,  to  its  rat-catchings, 
if  it  could  but  understand  the  time  of  day,  and  know 
(as  our  indignant  Crabbe  remarks)  that  'the  real 
Nimrod  of  this  era,  who  alone  does  any  good  to  the 
era,  is  the  rat-catcher.' 


128  DOWNING    STREET. 

The  notion  that  any  Government  is  or  can  be  a 
No-Government,  without  the  deadliest  peril  to  all 
noble  interests  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  by  degrees 
slower  or  swifter  to  all  ignoble  ones  also,  and  to  the 
very  gullydrains,  and  thief  lodginghonses,  and  Mosaic 
sweating  establishments,  and  at  last  without  destruc- 
tion to  such  No-Government  itself,  —  was  never  my 
notion ;  and  I  hope  it  will  soon  cease  altogether  to  be 
the  world's  or  to  be  anybody's.  But  if  it  be  tha 
correct  notion,  as  the  world  seems  at  present  to  flatter 
itself,  I  point  out  improvements  and  abbreviations. 
Dismiss  your  National  Palaver ;  make  the  Times 
Newspaper  your  National  Palaver,  which  needs  no 
beer-barrels  or  hustings,  and  is  cheaper  in  expense  of 
money  and  of  falsity  a  thousand  and  a  million  fold  ; 
have  an  economical  redtape  drilling  establishment  (it 
were  easier  to  devise  such  a  thing  than  a  right  Mod- 
ern University) ;  —  and  fling  out  your  orange-skin 
among  the  graduates,  when  you  want  a  new  Premier. 

A  mighty  question  indeed!  Who  shall  be  Premier, 
and  take  in  hand  the  '  rudder  of  government,'  other- 
wise called  the  '  spigot  of  taxation  ;'  shall  it  be  the 
Honorable  Felix  Parvulus,  or  the  Right  Honorable 
Felicissimus  Zero  ?  By  our  electioneerings  and  Han- 
sard Debatings,  and  ever-enduring  tempest  of  jargon 
that  goes  on  everywhere,  we  manage  to  settle  that  ; 
to  have  it  declared,  with  no  bloodshed  except  insig- 
nificant blood  from  the  nose  in  hustings-time,  but  with 
immense  beershed  and  inkshed  and  explosion  of  non- 
sense, which  darkens  all  the  air,  that  the  Right  Hon- 
orable Zero  is  to  be  the  man.  That  we  firmly  set- 
tle ;   Zero,  all  shivering  with  rapture  and  with  terror, 


DOWNING    STUEET.  129 

mounts  into  the  high  saddle  ;  cramps  himself  on,  with 
knees,  heels,  hands  and  feet ;  and  the  horse  gallops 
—  whither  it  lists.  That  the  Right  Honorcible  Zero 
shonld  attempt  controlling  the  horse  —  Alas,  alas,  he, 
sticking  on  with  beak  and  claws,  is  too  happy  if  the 
horse  will  only  gallop  anywhither,  and  not  throw 
him.  Measure,  polity,  plan  or  scheme  of  public  good 
or  evil,  is  not  in  the  head  of  Felicissimus  ;  except,  if 
he  could  but  devise  it,  some  measure  that  would 
please  his  horse  for  the  moment,  and  encourage  him 
to  go  with  softer  paces,  god  ward  or  devil  ward  as  it 
might  be,  and  save  Felicissimus's  leather,  which  is 
fast  wearing.  This  is  what  we'call  a  Government  in 
England,  for  nearly  two  centuries  now. 

I  wish  Felicissimus  were  saddle-sick  forever  and  a 
day!  He  is  a  dreadful  object,  however  much  we  are 
used  to  him.  If  the  horse  had  not  been  bred  and 
broken  in,  for  a  thousand  years,  by  real  riders  and 
horse-subduers,  perhaps  the  best  and  bravest  the  world 
ever  saw,  what  would  have  become  of  Felicissimus 
and  him  long  since?  This  horse,  by  second-nature, 
religiously  respects  all  fences;  gallops,  if  nev^er  so 
madly,  on  the  highways  alone  ; — seems  to  me,  of 
late,  like  a  desperate  Sleswick  thunder-horse  who  had 
lost  his  way,  galloping  in  the  labyrinthic  lanes  of  a 
woody  flat  country  ;  passionate  to  reach  his  goal ; 
unable  to  reach  it,  because  in  the  flat  leafy  lanes  there 
is  no  outlook  whatever,  and  in  the  bridle  there  is  no 
guidance  whatever.  So  he  gallops  stormfully  along, 
thinking  it  is  forward  and  forward;  and  alas,  it  is 
only  round  and  round,  out  of  one  old  lane  into  the 
other;  —  nay  (according  to  some)  'he  mistakes  Ids 


130  DOWNING    STREET. 

own  footprints^  which  of  course  grow  ever  more 
numerous,  for  the  sign  of  a  more  and  more  frequented 
road;'  and  his  despair  is  hourly  increasing.  My 
impression  is,  he  is  certain  soon,  such  is  the  growth 
of  his  necessity  and  his  despair,  to  —  pkmge  across 
the  fence,  into  an  opener  survey  of  the  country  ;  and 
to  sweep  FeHcissimus  off  his  hack,  and  comb  liim 
away  very  tragically  in  the  process!  Poor  Sleswicker, 
I  wish  you  were  better  ridden.  I  perceive  it  lies  in 
the  Fates  you  must  now  either  be  better  ridden,  or 
else  not  long  at  all.  This  plunging  in  the  heavy 
labyrinth  of  overshaded  lanes,  with  one's  stomach 
getting  empty,  one's  Ireland  falling  into  cannibalism, 
and  no  vestige  of  a  goal  either  visible  or  possible, 
cannot  last. 

Colonial  Offices,  Foreign,  Home  and  other  Offices, 
got  together  under  these  strange  circumstances,  cannot 
well  be  expected  to  be  the  best  that  human  ingenuity 
could  devise  ;  the  wonder  rather  is  to  see  them  so 
good  as  they  are.  Who  made  them,  ask  me  not. 
Made  they  clearly  were  ;  for  we  see  them  here  in  a 
concrete  condition,  writing  despatches,  and  drawing 
salary  with  a  view  to  buy  pudding.  But  how  those 
Offices  in  Downing  Street  were  made ;  who  made 
them,  or  for  what  kind  of  objects  they  were  made, 
would  be  hard  to  say  at  present.  ,Dim  visions  and 
phantasmagories  gathered  from  the  Books  of  Horace 
Walpole,  Memoirs  of  Bubb  Doddington,  Memoirs  of 
my  Lady  Sundon,  Lord  Fanny  Hervey,  and  innu- 
merable others,  rise  on  us,  beckoning  fantastically 
towards,  not  an  answer,  but  some  conceivable  intinia- 


DOWNING    STREET.  131 

tions  of  an  answer  ;  and  proclaiming  very  legibly  the 
old  text  '  Quani  parvd  sapientid,'  in   respect   of  this 
hard-working,  much-snbduing  British  Nation  ;  —  giv- 
ing rise  to  endless  reflections  in  a  thinking  English- 
man of  this  day.     Alas,  it  is  ever  so  :  each  generation 
has  its  task,  and  does  it  belter  or  worse,  —  greatly 
neglecting   what   is   not   immediately  its   task.     Our 
poor  grandfathers,  so  busy  conquering  Indias,  found- 
ing   Colonies,    inventing    spinning-jennies,    kindling 
Lancashires    and     Bromwichams,    took    no    thouglii 
about   the   government  of  all   that;  left  it  all  to  be 
governed   by  Lord  Fanny  and   the  Hanover  Succes- 
sion, or  how  the  gods  pleased.    And  now  we  the  poor 
grandchildren  find  that  it  will  not  stick  together  on 
these  terms  any  longer ;  that  our  sad,  dangerous  and 
sore  task  is  to  discover  some  government  for  this  big 
world  which  has  been  conquered  to  us  ;  that  the  red- 
tape   Offices  in  Downing  Street  are  near  the  end  of 
their  rope  ;  that  if  we  can  get  nothing  better,  in  the 
way  of  government,  it  is  all  over  with  our  world  and 
us.'    How  the  Downing  Street  Offices  originated,  and 
what  the   meaning  of  them  was  or  is,  let  Dryasdust, 
when   in  some  lucid  moment  the  whim  takes  him, 
instruct  us.     Enough  for  us  to  know  and  see  clearly, 
with   urgent    practical    inference  derived    from   such 
insight.   That  they  were  not  made  for  us  or  for  our 
objects  at  all  ;  that  the  devouring  Irish  Giant  is  here, 
and  that  he  cannot  be  fed  with  redtape,  and  will  eat 
us  if  we  cannot  feed  him. 

On  the  whole,  let  us  say  Felicissimus  made  them  ; 
—  or  rather  it  was  the  predecessors  of  Felicissimus, 
who  were  not   so  dreadfully  hunted,  sticking  to  the 


132  DOWiN'ING    STREET. 

wild  and  ever  more  desperate  Sleswicker  in  the  leafy- 
labyrinth  of  lanes,  as  he  now  is.  He,  I  think,  will 
never  make  any  thing  ;  bnt  be  combed  off  by  the 
elm-boughs,  and  left  sprawling  in  the  ditch.  Bat  in 
past  time,  this  and  the  other  heavy-laden  redtape  sonl 
had  withal  a  glow  of  patriotism  in  him  ;  now  and 
then,  in  his  whirling  element,  a  gleam  of  human  in- 
genuity, some  eye  towards  business  that  must  be 
done.  At  all  events,  for  him  and  every  one,  Parlia- 
ment needed  to  be  persuaded  that  business  was  done. 
By  the  contributions  of  many  such  heavy-laden  souls, 
driven  on  by  necessity  outward  and  inward,  these 
singular  Establishments  are  here.  Contributions  — 
who  knows  how  far  baok  they  go,  far  beyond  the 
reign  of  George  the  Second,  or  perhaps  the  reign  of 
William  Conqueror.  Noble  and  genuine  some  of 
them  were,  many  of  them  were,  I  need  not  doubt  : 
for  there  is  no  human  edifice  that  stands  long  but  has 
got  itself  planted,  here  and  there,  upon  the  basis  of 
fact;  and  been  built,  in  many  respects,  according  to 
the  laws  of  statics:  no  standing  edifice,  especially  no 
edifice  of  State,  but  has  had  the  wise  and  brave  at 
work  in  it,  contributing  their  lives  to  it  ;  and  is  'ce- 
mented,' whether  it  know  the  fact  or  not,  '  by  the 
blood  of  heroes  !  '  None  ;  not  even  the  Foreign  Of- 
fice, Home  Office,  still  less  the  National  Palaver  itself 
William  Conqueror,  I  find,  must  have  had  a  first-rate 
Home  Office,  for  his  share.  The  Domesday  Book, 
done  in  four  years,  and  done  as  it  is,  with  such  an 
admirable  brevity,  explicitness  and  completeness,  tes- 
tifies emphatically  what  kind  of  under-secretaries  and 
officials  William  had.     Silent  officials  and  secretaries, 


DOWNING    STREET.  133 

I  suppose  ;  not  wasting  themselves  in  parliamentary 
talk  ;  reserving  all  their  intelligence  for  silent  survey 
of  the  huge  dumb  fact,  silent  consideration  how  they 
inigiit  compass  the  mastery  of  that.  Happy  secreta- 
ries, happy  William  ! 

But  indeed  nobody  knows  what  inarticulate  tradi- 
tions, remnants  of  old  wisdom,  priceless  thougli  quite 
anonymous,  survive  in  many  modern  things  that  still 
Iiave  life  in  them.  Ben  Brace,  with  his  taciturnities, 
and  rugged  stoical  ways,  with  his  tarry  breeches,  stiff 
as  plank-breeches,  I  perceive  is  still  a  kind  of  Lod- 
^roo- (Loaded  breeks)  in  more  senses  than  one ;  and 
derives,  little  conscious  of  it,  many  of  his  excellences 
from  the  old  Seakings  and  Saxon  Pirates  themselves; 
and  how  many  Blakes  and  Nelsons  since  have  contrib- 
uted to  Ben  !  "  Things  are  not  so  false  always  as  they 
seem,"  said  a  certain  Professor  to  me  once  :  "  of  this 
you  will  find  instances  in  every  country,  and  in  your 
England  more  than  any  —  and  I  hope  will  draw  les- 
sons from  them.  An  English  Seventy-four,  if  you 
look  merely  at  the  articulate  law  and  methods  of  it, 
is  one  of  the  impossiblest  entities.  The  captain  is 
appointed  not  by  preeminent  merit  in  sailorship,  but 
by  parliamentary  connection  ;  the  men  "  (this  was 
spoken  some  years  ago)  "are  got  by  impressment  ;  a 
press-gang  goes  out,  knocks  men  down  on  the  streets 
of  sea-towns,  and  drags  them  on  board  —  if  the  ship 
were  to  be  stranded  I  have  heard  they  would  nearly 
all  run  ashore  and  desert.  Can  any  thing  be  more 
unreasonable  than  a  Seventy-four?  Articulately  al- 
most nothing.  But  it  has  inarticulate  traditions, 
ancient  methods  and  habitudes  in  it,  stoicisms,  noblt* 
12 


134 


DOWNING    STREET. 


nesses,  true  rules  both  of  sailing  and  of  conduct  ; 
enough  to  keep  it  afloat  on  Nature's  vertical  bosom, 
after  ail.  See  ;  if  you  bid  it  sail  to  the  end  of  the 
•world,  it  will  lift  anchor,  go,  and  arrive.  The  raging 
oceans  do  not  beat  it  back  ;  it  too,  as  well  as  the 
raging  oceans,  has  a  relationship  to  Nature,  and  it 
does  not  sink,  but  under  the  due  conditions  is  borne 
along.  If  it  meet  with  hurricanes,  it  rides  them  out; 
if  it  meet  an  Enemy's  ship,  it  shivers  it  to  powder  ; 
and  in  short,  it  holds  on  its  way,  and  to  a  wonderful 
extent  does  what  it  means  and  pretends  to  do.  As- 
sure yourself,  my  friend,  there  is  an  immense  fund  of 
truth  somewhere  or  other  stowed  in  that  Seventy- 
four." 


More  important  than  the  past  history  of  these 
offices  in  Downing  Street,  is  the  question  of  their 
future  history  ;  the  question,  How  they  are  to  be  got 
mended  !  Truly  an  immense  problem,  inclusive  of 
all  others  whatsoever;  which  demands  to  be  attacked, 
and  incessantly  persisted  in,  by  all  good  citizens,  as 
the  grand  problem  of  Society,  and  the  one  thing 
needful  for  the  Commonwealth  !  A  problem  in  which 
all  men,  with  all  their  wisdoms  and  all  their  virtues, 
faithfully  and  continually  cooperating  at  it,  will  never 
have  done  enough,  and  will  still  only  be  struggling 
toicards  perfection  in  it.  In  which  some  men  can  do 
much;  —  in  which  every  man  can  do  something. 
Every  man,  and  thou  my  present  Reader  canst  do 
this  :  Be  thyself  a  man  abler  to  be  governed  ;  more 
reverencing   the  divine   faculty  of   governing,  more 


DOWNING    STREET.  135 

sacredly  detesting  the  diabolical  semblance  of  said 
fiiculty  in  self  and  others  ;  so  shalt  thou,  if  not  gov- 
ern, yet  actually  according  to  thy  strength  assist  in 
real  governing.  And  know  always,  and  even  lay  to 
heart  with  a  quite  unusual  solemnity,  with  a  serious- 
ness altogether  of  a  religious  nature,  that  as  "  Human 
Stupidity  "  is  verily  the  accursed  parent  of  all  this  mis- 
cliief,  so  Human  Intelligence  alone,  to  which  and  to 
which  only  is  victory  and  blessedness  appointed  here 
below,  will  or  can  cure  it.  If  we  knew  this  as  de- 
voutly as  we  ought  to  do,  the  evil,  and  all  other  evils 
were  curable  ;  —alas, 'if  we  had  from  of  old  known 
this,  as  all  men  made  in  God's  image  ought  to  do, 
the  evil  never  would  have  been !  Perhaps  few  Na- 
tions have  ever  known  it  less  than  we,  for  a  good 
while  back,  have  done.     Hence  these  sorrows. 

What  a  People  are  the  poor  Thibet  idolaters,  com- 
pared with  us  and  our    'religions,'    which  issue  in 
the   worship  of    King   Hudson  as   our  Dalai-Lama ! 
They,   across  such  hulls   of  abject   ignorance,   have 
seen    into    the  heart  of   the  matter;  we,    witji    our 
torches  of  knowledge  everywhere  brandishing  them- 
selves,  and    such  a  human  enlightenment  as   never 
was   before,  have   quite   missed   it.      Reverence   for 
Human  Worth,  earnest  devout  search  for  it  and  en- 
couragement of  it,  loyal  furtherance  and  obedience  to 
it ;  this,  I  say,  is  the  out-come  and  essence  of  all  true 
'  r'eligions,'  and  was,  and  ever   will   be.      We  have 
not  known  this.     No  ;  loud  as  our  tongues  sometimes 
go  in  that  direction,  we   have  no  true  reverence  for 
Human  Intelligence,  for  Human  Worth  and  Wisdom  : 
none,  or  too  little, —and  I  pray  for  a  restoration  of 


|36  DOWNING    STREET. 

such  reverence,  as  for  the  change  from  Stygian  dark- 
ness to  Heavenly  light,  as  for  the  return  of  life  to 
poor  sick  moribund  Society  and  all  its  interests.  Hu- 
man intelligence  means  little  for  most  of  us  but 
Beaver  Contrivance,  which  produces  spinning  mules, 
cheap  cotton,  and  large  fortunes.  Wisdom,  unless  it 
give  us  railway  scrip,  is  not  wise. 

True  nevertheless  it  forever  remains  that  Intellect 
is  the  real  object  of  reverence,  and  of  devout  prayer, 
and  zealous  wish  and  pursuit,  among  the  sons  of  men  ; 
and  even,  well  understood,  the  one  object.  It  is  the 
Inspiration  of  the  Almighty  that  giveth  men  under- 
standing. For  it  must  be  repeated,  and  ever  again 
repeated  till  poor  mortals  get  to  discern  it,  and  awake 
from  their  baleful  paralysis,  and  degradation  under 
foul  enchantments,  That  a  man  of  Intellect,  of  real 
and  not  sham  Intellect,  is  by  the  nature  of  him  like- 
wise inevitably  a  man  of  nobleness,  a  man  of  courage, 
rectitude,  pious  strength  ;  who,  even  because  he  is 
and  has  been  loyal  to  the  Laws  of  this  Universe,  is 
initiated  into  disceniinent  of  the  same  :  to  this  hour 
a  Missioned  of  Heaven  ;  whom  if  men  follow,  it  will 
be  well  with  them  ;  whom  if  men  do  not  follow,  it 
will  not  be  well.  Human  Intellect,  if  you  considei 
it  well,  is  the  exact  summary  of  Human  Worth  ;  and 
the  essence  of  all  worth-ships  and  worships  is  rever- 
ence for  that  same.  This  much  surprises  you,  friend 
Peter  ;  but  I  assure  you  it  is  the  fact  ;  —  and  I  would 
advise  you  to  consider  it,  and  to  try  if  you  too  do  not 
gradually  find  it  so.  With  me  it  has  long  been  an 
article,  not  of  'faith'  only,  but  of  settled  insight, 
of  conviction   as   to   what   the   ordanments   of  the 


DOWNING    STREET. 


137 


Maker  in  this  Universe  are.  Ah,  conld  you  and  the 
rest  of  us  but  get  to  know  it,  and  everywhere  reli- 
giously act  upon  it,  —  as  our  Fortietli  Article,  wliich 
uicludes  all  the  other  Thirty-nine,  and  without  which 
the  Thirty-nine  are  good  for  almost  nothing,  —  there 
might  then  be  some  hope  for  us  !  In  tliis  world  there 
is  but  one  appalling  creature  :  the  Stupid  man  con- 
sidered to  be  the  Missioned  of  Heaven,  and  followed 
by  men.  He  is  our  King,  men  say,  he; — and  they 
follow  him,  through  straight  or  winding  courses,  I  for 
one  know  well  whitherward. 

Abler  men  in  Downing  Street,  abler  men  to  govern 
us:  yes,  that,  sure  enongh,  would  gradually  remove 
the  dung-mountains,  however  high  they  are  ;  that 
would  be  the  way,  nor  is  there  any  other  way,  to 
remedy  whatsoever  has  gone  wrong  in  Downing 
Street  and  in  the  wide  regions,  spiritual  and  temporal, 
which  Downing  Street  presides  over  !  For  the  Able 
Man,  meet  him  where  you  may,  is  definable  as  the 
born  enemy  of  Falsity  and  Anarchy,  and  the  born 
soldier  of  Truth  and  Order  ;  into  what  absurdest  ele- 
ment soever  you  put  him,  he  is  there  to  make  it  a 
little  less  absurd,  to  fight  continually  with  it  till  it 
become  a  little  sane  and  human  again.  Peace  on 
other  terms  he,  for  his  part,  cannot  make  with  it  ;  not 
he,  while  he  continues  able,  or  possessed  of  real  intel- 
lect and  not  imaginary.  There  is  but  one  man 
fraught  with  blessings  for  this  world,  fated  to  dimin- 
ish and  successively  abolish  the  curses  of  the  world  ; 
and  it  is  he.  For  him  make  search,  him  reverence 
and  follow  ;  know  that  to  find  him  or  miss  him,  means 
victory  or  defeat  f^r  you,  in  all  Downing  Streets,  and 
12* 


138  DOWNING    STREET. 

establishments  and  enterprises  here  below.     I 

leave  your  Lordship  to  judge  whether  this  has  been 
our  practice  hitherto  ;  and  would  humbly  inquire 
what  your  Lordship  thinks  is  liliely  to  be  the  conse- 
quence of  continuing  to  neglect  this  ?  It  ought  to 
have  been  our  practice  ;  ought,  in  all  places  and  all 
times,  to  be  the  practice  in  this  world ;  so  says  the 
fixed  law  of  things  forevermore :  —  and  it  must  cease 
to  be  not  the  practice,  your  Lordship ;  and  cannot  too 
speedily  do  so,  I  think  !  — 

Much  has  been  done  in  the  way  of  reforming  Par- 
liament in  late  years  ;  but  that  of  itself  seems  to  avail 
nothing,  or  almost  less.  The  men  that  sit  in  Down- 
ing Street,  governing  us,  are  not  abler  men  since  the 
Reform  Bill  than  were  those  before  it.  Precisely  the 
same  kind  of  men  ;  obedient  formerly  to  Tory  tradi- 
tions, obedient  now  to  Whig  ditto  and  popular  clam- 
ors. Respectable  men  of  office:  respectably  com- 
monplace in  faculty,  —  while  the  situation  is  becoming 
terribly  original !  Rendering  their  outlooks,  and  ours, 
more  ominous  every  day. 

Indisputably  enough  the  meaning  of  all  reform- 
movement,  electing  and  electioneering,  of  popular  agi- 
tation, parliamentary  eloquence,  and  all  political  effort 
whatsoever,  is  that  you  may  get  the  ten  Ablest  Men 
in  England  put  to  preside  over  your  ten  principal  de- 
partments of  affairs.  To  sift  and  riddle  the  Nation, 
so  that  you  might  extricate  and  sift  out  the  true  ten 
gold  grains,  or  ablest  men,  and  of  these  make  your 
Governors  or  Public  Officers  ;  leaving  the  dross  and 
common  sandy  or  silty  materials  safely  aside,  as  the 


DOWNING   STREET.  139 

thing  to  be  governed,  not  to  govern  :    certainly  all 
ballotboxes,  caucuses,  Kennington-Common  meetings, 
Parliamentary    debatings.     Red    Republics,    Russian 
Despotisms,    and    constitutional    or    nnconstitutional 
metliods  of  society  among  mankind,  are  intended  to 
achieve  this  one  end  ;  and  some  of  them,  it  will  be 
owned,  achieve  it  very  ill !  —  If  you  have  got  your 
gold  grains,  if  the  men  you  have  got  are  actually  the 
ablest,  then  rejoice  ;  with  whatever  astonishment,  ac- 
cept your  Ten,  and  thank  the  gods,  under  this  Ten 
your  destruction  will  at  least  be  milder  than  under 
another.     But  if  you  have  7iot  got  them,  if  you  are 
very  far  from  having  got  them,  then  do  not  rejoice  at 
all,  then  lament  very  much  ;  then  admit  that  your 
sublime    political  constitutions    and   contrivances  do 
not  prove  themselves  sublime,  but  ridiculous  and  con- 
temptible ;    that    your  world's-wonder  of   a  political 
mill,  the  envy  of  surrounding  nations,  does  not  yield 
you  real  meal  ;  yields  you  only  powder  of  millstones 
(called  Hansard  Debatings),  and  a  detestable  brown 
substance  not  unlike  the  grindings  of    dried   horse- 
dung  or  prepared  street-mud,  which  though  sold  under 
royal  patent,  and  much  recommended  by  the  trade,  is 
quite  unfit  for  culinary  purposes  !  — 

But  the  disease  at  least  is  not  mysterious,  what- 
ever the  remedy  be.  Our  disease, — alas,  is  it  not 
clear  as  the  sun,  that  we  suffer  under  what  is  the 
disease  of  all  the  miserable  in  this  world,  ivant  of  wis- 
dom ;  that  in  the  Head  there  is  no  vision,  and  that 
tliereby  all  the  members  are  dark  and  in  bonds?  No 
vision  in  the  head  ;  heroism,  faith,  devout  insight  to 


140  DOWNING    STREET. 

discern  what  is  needful,  noble  courage  to  do  it,  greatly 
defective  there  :  not  seeing  eyes  there,  but  spectacles 
constitutionally  ground,  which,  to  the  unwary,  seem 
to  see.  A  quite  fatal  circumstance,  had  you  never  so 
many  Parliaments  !  How  is  your  ship  to  be  steered 
by  a  Pilot  with  no  eyes  but  a  pair  of  glass  ones  got 
from  the  constitutional  optician?  He  must'  steer  by 
the  ear,  I  think,  rather  than  by  the  eye  ;  by  the 
shoutings  he  catches  from  the  shore,  or  from  the  Par- 
liamentary benches  nearer  hand:  —  one  of  the  fright- 
fullest  objects  to  see  steering  in  a  difficult  sea!  Re- 
formed Parliaments  in  that  case,  reform-leagues,  outer 
agitations  and  excitements  in  never  such  abundance, 
cannot  profit :  all  this  is  but  the  writhing,  and  painful 
blind  convulsion  of  the  limbs  that  are  in  bonds,  that 
are  all  in  dark  misery  till  the  head  be  delivered,  till 
the  pressure  on  the  brain  be  removed. 

Or  perhaps  there  is  now  no  heroic  wisdom  left  in 
England ;  England,  once  the  land  of  heroes,  is  itself 
sunk  now  to  a  dim  owlery,  and  habitation  of  doleful 
creatures,  intent  only  on  money-making  and  other 
forms  of  catching  mice,  for  whom  the  proper  gospel 
is  the  Gospel  of  M'Crowdy,  and  all  nobler  impulses 
and  insights  are  forbidden  henceforth  ?  Perhaps  these 
present  agreeable  Occupants  of  Downing  Street,  such 
as  the  parliamentary  mill  has  yielded  them,  are  the 
best  the  miserable  soil  had  grown  ?  The  most  Her- 
culean Ten  Men  that  could  be  found  among  the  Eng- 
lish Twenty-seven  Millions,  are  these  ?  There  are 
not,  in  any  place,  under  any  figure,  ten  diviner  men 
among  us?  Well;  in  that  case,  the  riddling  and 
searching  of  the  twenty-seven  millions  has  been  suC" 


rOWNING    STREET.  141 

cessful.  Here  are  our  ten  divinest  men ;  with  these, 
unhappily  not  divine  enough,  we  must  even  content 
ourselves  and  die  in  peace,  what  help  is  there  ?  No 
help,  no  hope,  in  that  case. 

But,  again,  if  these  are  not  our  divinest  men,  then 
evidently  there  always  is  hope,  there  always  is  possi- 
bility of  help;  and  ruin  never  is  quite  inevitable,  till 
we  have  sifted  out  our  actually  divinest  ten,  and  set 
these  to  try  their  hand  at  governing  !  —  That  this  has 
been  achieved  ;  that  these  ten  men  are  the  most  Her- 
culean souls  the  English  population  held  within  it, 
is  a  proposition  credible  to  no  mortal.  No,  thank 
God ;  low  as  we  are  sunk  in  many  ways,  this  is  not 
yet  credible  !  Evidently  the  reverse  of  this  proposi- 
tion is  the  fact.  Ten  much  diviner  men  do  certainly 
exist.  By  some  conceivable,  not  forever  impossible, 
method  and  methods,  ten  very  much  diviner  men 
could  be  sifted  out! — Courage;  let  us  fix  our  eyes 
on  that  important  fact,  and  strive  all  thitherward  as 
towards  a  door  of  hope  ! 

Parliaments,  I  think,  have  proved  too  well,  in  late 
years,  that  they  are  not  the  remedy.  It  is  not  Par- 
liaments, reformed  or  other,  that  will  ever  send  Her- 
culean men  to  Downing  Street,  to  reform  Downing 
Street  for  us  ;  to  diffuse  therefrom  a  light  of  Heaveiily 
Order,  instead  of  the  murk  of  Stygian  Anarchy,  over 
this  sad  world  of  ours.  That  function  does  not  lie  in 
the  capacities  of  Parliament.  That  is  the  function 
of  a  King,  — if  we  could  get  such  a  priceless  entity, 
Avhich  we  cannot  just  now!  Failing  which,  States- 
men, or  Temporary-Kings,  and  at  the  very  lowest  one 


142  DOWNING    STREET. 

real  Statesman,  to  shape  the  dim  tendencies  of  Par- 
liament, and  guide  them  wisely  to  the  goal  :  he,  1 
perceive,  will  be  a  primary  condition,  indispensable 
for  any  progress  whatsoever. 

One  such,  perhaps,  might  be  attained  ;  one  such 
might  prove  discoverable  among  our  Parliamentary 
populations  ?  That  one,  in  such  an  enterprise  as  this 
of  Downing  Street,  might  be  invaluable  !  One  noble 
man,  at  once  of  natural  wisdom  and  practical  experi- 
ence ;  one  Intellect  still  really  human,  and  not  red- 
tapish,  owlish  and  pcdantical,  appearing  there  in  that 
dim  chaos,  with  word  of  command  ;  to  brandish  Her- 
cules-like the  divine  broom  and  shovel,  and  turn 
running  water  in  upon  the  place,  and  say  as  with  a 
fiat,  ^'  Here  shall  be  truth,  and  real  work,  and  talent 
to  do  it  henceforth ;  I  will  seek  for  able  men  to  work 
here,  as  for  the  elixir  of  life  to  this  poor  place 
and  me  :  "  —  what  might  not  one  such  man  effect 
there  ! 

Nay  one  such  is  not  to  be  dispensed  with  any- 
where in  the  affairs  of  men.  In  every  ship,  I  say, 
there  must  be  a  seeiftg  pilot,  not  a  mere  hearing  one  ! 
It  is  evident  you  can  never  get  your  ship  steered 
through  the  difhcult  straits  by  persons  standing  ashore, 
on  this  bank  and  that,  and  shouting  their  confused 
directions  to  you  :  *'  Ware  that  Colonial  Sand-bank  ! 
—  Starboard  now,  the  Nigger  Question  !  —  Larboard, 
lar^owrr/,  the  Suffrage  Movement! — Financial  Re- 
form, your  Clothing-Colonels  overboard  !  The  Qual- 
ification Movement,  'Ware-re-re  !  —  Helm-a-lee  !  Bear 
a  hand  there,  will  you  !  Hr-r-r,  lubbers,  imbeciles, 
fitter  for  a  tailor's  shopboard   than  a  helm  of  Govern- 


DOWNING    STREET.  1  i3 

luent,  Hr-r-r  !  "  —  And  so  the  ship  wriggles  and  tum- 
bles, and  on  the  whole  goes  as  wind  and  current  drive. 
No  ship  was  ever  steered  except  to  destruction  in  that 
manner.  I  deliberately  say  so  :  no  ship  of  a  State 
either.  If  you  cannot  get  a  real  pilot  on  board,  and 
put  the  helm  into  his  hands,  your  ship  is  as  good  as  a 
wreck.  One  real  pilot  on  board  may  save  you  ;  all 
the  bellowing  from  the  banks  that  ever  was,  will  not, 
and  by  the  nature  of  things  cannot.  Nay  your  pilot 
will  have  to  succeed,  if  he  do  succeed,  very  much  in 
spite  of  said  bellowing  ;  he  will  hear  all  that,  and 
regard  very  little  of  it,  —  in  a  patent  mild-spoken 
wise  manner,  will  regard  allof  «7  as  what  it  is.  And 
I  never  doubt  but  there  is  in  Parliament  itself,  in 
spite  of  its  vague  palaverings  which  fill  us  with 
despair  in  these  times,  a  dumb  instinct  of  inarticulate 
sense  and  stubborn  practical  English  insight  ana 
veracity,  that  would  manfully  support  a  Statesman 
who  could  take  command  with  really  manful  notions 
of  Reform,  and  as  one  deserving  to  be  obeyed.  Oh 
for  one  such  ;  even  one  !  More  precious  to  us  than 
all  the  bullion  in  the  Bank,  or  perhaps  that  ever  was 
in  it,  just  now  ! 

For  it  is  Wisdom  alone  that  can  recognize  wisdom  : 
Folly  or  Imbecility  never  can  ;  and  that  is  the  fatal- 
lest  ban  it  labors  under,  dooming  it  to  perpetual  fail- 
ure in  all  things.  Failure  which,  in  Downing  Street 
and  places  of  command^  is  especially  accursed  ;  curs- 
ing not  one  but  hundreds  of  millions  !  Who  is  there 
that  can  recognize  real  intellect,  and  do  reverence  to 
it ;  and  discriminate  it  well  from  sham  intellect 
which  is  so   much  more  abuudaut,  and  deserves  the 


144  DOWNING    STREET. 

reverse  of  reverence  ?  He  that  himself  has  it !  — 
One  really  human  Intellect,  invested  with  command, 
and  charged  to  reform  Downing  Street  for  ns,  would 
continually  attract  real  intellect  to  those  regions,  and 
with  a  divine  magnetism  search  it  out  from  the 
modest  corners  where  it  lies  hid.  And  every  new 
accession  of  intellect  to  Downing  Street  would  hring 
to  it  benefit  only,  and  would  increase  such  divine  at- 
traction in  it,  the  parent  of  all  benefit  there  and  else- 
where ! 


''  What  method,  then  ;  by  what  method  ?  "  ask 
many.  —  Method,  alas  !  To  secure  an  increased 
supply  of  Human  Intellect  to  Downing  Street,  there 
will  evidently  be  no  quite  effectual  'method'  but 
that  of  increasing  the  supply  of  Human  Intellect, 
otherwise  definable  as  Human  Worth,  in  Society, 
generally ;  increasing  the  supply  of  sacred  rever- 
ence for  it,  of  loyalty  to  it,  and  of  life-and-death 
desire  and  pursuit  of  it,  among  all  classes,  —  if  we 
but  knew  such  a  '  method  !  '  Alas,  that  were  sim- 
ply the  method  of  making  all  classes  Servants  of 
Heaven  ;.  and  except  it  be  devout  prayer  to  Heaven, 
I  have  never  heard  of  any  method  !  To  increase  the 
reverence  for  Human  Intellect  or  God's  Light,  and 
the  detestation  of  Human  Stupidity  or  the  Devil's 
Darkness,  what  method  is  there?  No  method,— 
except  even  this,  that  we  should  each  of  us  'pray' 
for  it,  instead  of  praying  for  mere  scrip  and  the 
like  ;  that  Heaven  would  please  to  vouchsafe  us  each 
?  little  of  it,  one  by  one  !     As  perhaps  Heaven,  in 


DOWNING    STREET.  145 

its  infinite  bounty,  by  stern  methods,  gradually  will  ? 
Perhaps  Heaven  has  mercy  too  in  these  sore  plagues 
that  are  oppressing  us :  and  means  to  teach  us  rev- 
erence for  Heroism  and  Human  Intellect,  by  such 
baleful  experience  of  what  issue  Imbecility  and  Par- 
liamentary Eloquence  lead  to  ?  Such  reverence,  I 
do  hope,  and  even  discover  and  observe,  is  silently 
yet  extensively  going  on  among  us  even  in  these 
sad  years.  In  which  small  salutary  fact  there  burns 
for  us,  in  this  black  coil  of  universal  baseness  fast 
becoming  universal  wretchedness,  an  inextinguisha- 
ble hope  ;  far-ofl'  but  sure,  a  divine  '■  pillar  of  fire  by 
night.'     Courage,  courage!  — 

Meanwhile,  that  our  one  reforming  Statesman  may 
have  free  command  of  what  Intellect  there  is  among 
us,  and  room  to  try  all  means  for  awakening  and  in- 
viting ever  more  of  it,  there  has  one  small  Project  of 
Improvement  been  suggested  ;  which  finds  a  certain 
dea:ree  of  favor  wherever  I  hear  it  talked  of,  and 
which  seems  to  merit  much  more  consideration  than 
it  has  yet  received.  Practical  men  themselves  ap- 
prove of  it  hitherto,  so  far  as  it  goes  ;  the  one  objec- 
tion being  that  the  world  is  not  yet  prepared  to  insist 
on  it,  —  which  of  course  the  world  can  never  be,  till 
once  the  world  consider  it,  and  in  the  first  place  hear 
tell  of  it !  I  have,  for  my  own  part,  a  good  opinion  of 
this  project.  The  old  unreformed  Parliament  of 
rotten  boroughs  had  cue  advantage  ;  but  that  is  here- 
by, in  a  far  more  fruitful  and  effectual  manner,  secured 
to  the  new. 

The  Proposal  is,  That  Secretaries  under  and  upper, 
13 


148  DOWNING    STREET. 

that  all  manner  of  chargeable  or  permanent  servants 
in  the  Government  Offices  shall  be  selected  imutout 
reference  to  their  power  of  getting  into  Parliament  ; 
—  that,  in  short,  the  dueen  shall  have  power  of  nom- 
iiiating  the  half-dozen  or  half-score  Officers  of  the 
Administration,  whose  presence  is  thought  necessary 
in  Parliament,  to  official  seats  there,  withont  refer- 
ence to  any  constituency  but  her  own  only,  which 
of  course  will  mean  her  Prinie  Minister's.  A  very 
small  encroac^iment  on  the  present  constitution  of 
Parliament;  offering  the  minim.um  of  change  in  pres- 
ent methods,  and  I  almost  think  a  maximum  in  results 
to  be  derived  therefrom.  The  Q^ueen  nominates  John 
Thomas  (the  fittest  man  she,  much-inquiring,  can 
hear  tell  of  in  her  three  kingdoms)  Presi4ent  of  the 
Poor-Law  Board,  Under  Secretary  of  the  Colonies, 
Under  or  perhaps  even  Upper  Secretary  of  what  she 
and  her  Premier  find  suitablest  tor  a  ^vorking  head  so 
eminent,  a  talent  so  precious ;  and  grants  him  by  her 
direct  authority,  seat  and  vote  in  Parliament  s6  long 
as  he  holds  that  office.  Upper  Secretaries,  having 
more  to  do  in  Parliament,  and  being  so  bound  to  be 
in  favor  there,  would,  I  suppose,  at  least  till  new 
times  and  habits  come,  be  expected  to  be  chosen 
from  among  the  People's  Members  as  at  present. 
But  whether  the  Prime  Minister  himself  is,  in  all 
limes,  bound  to  be  first  a  People's  Member  ;  and 
which,  or  how  many,  of  his  Secretaries  and  subor- 
dinates he  might  be  allowed  to  take  as  Queen^s 
Members,  my  authority  does  not  say, — perhaps  has 
not  himself  settled  ;  the  project  being  yet  in  mere 
outline  or  foreshadow,  the  practical  embodiment  in 


DOWNING    STREET.  1:^7 

all  details  to  be  fixed  by  authorities  much  more  com- 
petent than  he.  The  soul  of  his  project  is,  That 
the  Crown  also  have  power  to  elect  a  few  members 
to  Parliament. 

From  which  project,  however  wisely  it  were  em- 
bodied, there  could  probably,  at  first  or  all  at  once,  no 
great  'accession  of  intellect'  to  the  Government  Of- 
fices ensue  ;  thongh  a  little  might,  even  at  first,  and 
a  little  is  always  precious  :  but  in  its  ulterior  opera- 
tion, were  that  faithfully  developed,  and  wisely  pre- 
sided over,  I  fancy  an  immense  accession  of  intellect 
might  ensue  ;  — nay  a  natural  ingress  might  thereby 
be  opened  to  all  manner  of  accessions,  and  the  actual 
flower  of  whatever  intellect  the  British  Nation  had 
might  be  attracted  towards  Downing  Street,  and  con- 
tinue flowing  steadily  thither  !  For  let  us  see  a  little 
what  efl'ects  this  simple  change  carries  in  it  the  pos- 
sibilities of.  Here  are  beneficient  germs,  which  the 
presence  of  one  truly  wise  man  as  Chief  Minister, 
steadily  fostering  them  for  even  a  few  years,  with  the 
sacred  fidelity  and  vigilance  that  would  beseem  him, 
might  ripen  into  living  practices,  and  habitual  facts, 
invaluable  to  us  all. 

What  it  is  that  Secretaries  of  State,  Managers  of 
Colonial  Establishments,  of  Home  and  Foreign  Gov- 
ernment interests,  have  really  and  truly  to  do  in 
Parliament,  might  admit  of  various  estimate  in  these 
times.  An  apt  debater  in  Parliament  is  by  no  means 
certain  to  be  an  able  administrator  of  Colonies,  of 
Home  or  Foreign  Aflfairs  ;  nay,  rather,  quite  the  con- 
trary is  to  be  presumed  of  him  ;  for  in  order  to  be- 
come  'a  brilliant   speaker,'  if  that   is  his  character. 


14S  DOWNING    STREET. 

consideral3le  portions  of  his  natural  internal  endow- 
ment must  liave  gone  to  the  surface,  in  order  to  make 
a  shining  figure  t'nere,  and  precisely  so  mucii  the  less 
(few  men  in  these  days  know  how  much  less  !)  mnst 
remain  available  in  the  internal  silent  state,  or  as  fac- 
ulty for  thinking,  for  devising  and  acting,  which  latter 
and  which  alone  is  the  function  essential  for  him  in 
his  Secretaryship.  Not  to  tell  a  good  story  for  him- 
self '  in  Parliament  and  to  the  twenty-seven  millions, 
many  of  them  fools;'  not  that,  but  to  do  good  ad- 
ministration, to  know  with  sure  eye,  and  decide  with 
just  and  resolute  heart,  what  is  what  in  the  tJiings 
committed  to  his  charge  :  this  and  not  that  is  the  ser- 
vice which  poor  England,  whatever  it  may  think  and 
maunder,  does  require  and  v/ant  of  the  Official  Man 
in  Downing  Street.  Given  a  good  Official  Man  or 
Secretary  he  really  ought,  as  far  as  it  is  possible,  to  be 
left  working  in  the  silent  state.  No  mortal  can  both 
Avork,  and  do  good  talking  in  Parliament,  or  out  of  it : 
the  feat  is  impossible  as  that  of  serving  two  hostile 
masters. 

Nor  would  I,  if  it  could  be  helped,  much  trouble 
my  good  Secretary  with  addressing  Parliament :  need- 
ful explanations  ;  yes,  in  a  free  country,  surely  ;  — but 
not  to  every  frivolous  and  vexatious  person,  in  or  out 
of  Parliament,  who  chooses  to  apply  for  them.  There 
should  be  demands  for  explanation  too  which  were 
reckoned  frivolous  and\  vexatious,  and  censured  as 
such.  These,  I  should  say,  are  the  not  needt^ul  ex- 
planations :  and  if  my  poor  Secretary  is  to  be  called 
out  from  his  workshop  to  answer  every  one  of  these,  — 
his  workshop  will  become  (what  we  at  present  see  it, 


DOWNING    STREET.  149 

deservedly  or  not)  little  other  than  a  pillory  ;  the  poor 
Secretary  a  kind  of  talking-machine,  exposed  to  dead- 
cats  and  rotteii-eggs  ;  and  the  '  work  '  got  out  of 
him  or  of  it,  will,  as  heretofore,  he  very  inconsidera- 
hle  indeed !  —  Alas,  on  this  side  also,  important  im- 
provements  are  conceivahle  ;  and  will  even,  I  imagine, 
get  them  whence  we  may,  be  found  indispensable 
one  day.  The  honorable  gentleman  whom  you  inter- 
rupt here,  he,  in  his  official  capacity,  is  not  an  indi- 
vidual now  but  the  embodiment  of  a  Nation  ;  he  is 
the  '  People  of  England  '  engaged  in  the  work  of 
Secretaryship,  this  one  ;  and  cannot  forever  afibrd  to 
let  the  Three  Tailors  of  Toolcy  Street,  break  in  upot? 
him  at  all  hours  !  — 

But  leaving  this,  let  us  mark  one  thing  which  is 
vei-y  plain  :  That  whatever  be  the  uses  and  dutiep. 
real  or  supposed,  of  a  Secretary  in  Parliament,  his  fac- 
ulty to  accomplish  these  is  a  point  entirely  uncon- 
nected with  his  ability  to  get  elected  into  Parliament, 
and  has  no  relation  or  proportion  to  it,  and  no  concern 
with  it  whatever.  Lord  Tommy  and  the  Honorable 
John  are  not  a  whit  better  qualified  for  Parliamentary 
duties,  to  say  nothing  of  Secretary  duties,  than  Plain 
Tom  and  Jack  ;  they  are  merely  better  qualified,  as 
matters  stand,  for  getting  admitted  to  try  them. 
Which  state  of  matters  a  reforming  Premier,  much  m 
want  of  abler  men  to  help  him,  noAV  proposes  a//e/77?,o-. 
Tom  and  Jack,  once  admitted  by  the  Queen's  writ, 
there  is  every  reason  to  suppose,  will  do  quite  as 
well  there  as  Lord  Tommy  and  the  Honorable  John. 
Ir.  Parliament  quite  as  well :  and  elsewhere,  in  the 
other  infinitely  more  important  duties  of  a  Govern- 
13* 


150  DOWNING    STREET. 

ment  office,  which  indeed  are,  and  remain  the 
>3ssential,  vital  and  intrinsic  duties  of  such  a  person- 
age, is  there  the  faintest  reason  to  surmise  that  Tom 
and  Jack,  if  well  chosen,  will  fall  short  of  Lord  Tom- 
my and  the  Honorable  John  ?  No  shadow  of  a  rea- 
son. Were  the  intrinsic  genius  of  the  men  exactly 
equal,  there  is  no  shadow  of  a  reason  :  but  rather 
there  is  quite  the  reverse  ;  for  Tom  and  Jack  have 
been  at  least  workers  all  their  days,  not  idlers,  game- 
preservers  and  more  human  clothes-horses,  at  any 
period  of  their  lives  ;  and  have  gained  a  schooling 
thereby,  of  which  Lord  Tommy,  and  the  Honorable 
John,  unhappily  strangers  to  it  for  most  part,  can  form 
no  conception  !  Tom  and  Jack  have  already,  on  this 
most  narrow  hypothesis,  a  decided  superiority  of 
likelihood  ov^er  Lord  Tommy  and  the  Honorable 
John. 

But  the  hypothesis  is  very  narrow,  and  the  fact  is 
very  wide  :  the  hypothesis  counts  by  units,  the  fact 
by  millions.  Consider  how  many  Toms  and  Jacks 
there  are  to  choose  from,  well  or  ill  !  The  aristocratic 
class  from  whom  members  of  Parliament  can  be 
elected  extends  only  to  certain  thousands  ;  from  these 
you  are  to  choose  your  Secretary,  if  a  seat  in  Parlia- 
ment is  the  primary  condition.  But  the  general  pop- 
ulation is  of  Twenty-seven  Millions  ;  from  all  sec- 
tions of  which  you  can  choose,  if  the  seat  in  Par- 
liament is  not  to  be  primary.  Make  it  ultimate  in- 
stead of  primary,  a  last  investiture  instead  of  a  first 
indispensable  condition,  and  the  whole  British  Nation, 
learned,  unlearned,  professional,  practical,  speculative 
and  miscellaneous,  is  at  your  disposal.     In  the  lowest 


DOVV>'ING    STREET.  151 

broad  strata  of  the  popnlation  eqnall^^  as  in  the  highest 
and  narrowest,  are  produced  men  of  every  kind  of 
genius  ;  man  for  man,  your  chance  of  genius  is  as 
good  among  the  millions  as  among  the  units;  —and 
class  for  class,  what  must  it  be  !  From  all  classes, 
not  from  certain  hundreds  now  but  from  several 
millions,  whatsoever  man  the  gods  had  gifted  with 
intellect  and  nobleness,  and  power  to  help  his  coun- 
try, could  be  chosen:  O  Heavens,  could, — if  not 
by  Tenpound  Constitnencies  and  the  force  of  beer, 
then,  by  a  Reforming  Premier  with  eyes  in  his  head, 
who  I  think  might  do  it  quite  infinitely  better  !  In- 
finitely better.  For  ignobleness  cannot,  by  the  nature 
of  it,  choose  the  noble :  no,  there  needs  a  seeing  man 
who  is  himself  noble,  cognizant  by  internal  experi- 
ence of  the  symptoms  of  nobleness.  Shall  we  never 
think  of  this  ;  shall  we  never  more  remember  this, 
then  ?  It  is  forever  true  ;  and  Nature  and  Fact,  how- 
ever we  may  rattle  our  ballot-boxes,  do  at  no  time 
forget  it. 

From  the  lowest  and  broadest  stratum  of  Society, 
where  the  births  are  by  the  million,  there  was  born, 
almost  in  our  own  memory,  a  Robert  Burns  ;  son  of 
one  who  '  had  not  capital  for  his  poor  moor-farm  of 
Tw^enty  Pounds  a  year.'  Robert  Burns  never  had 
tlie  smallest  chance  to  get  into  Parliament,  much  as 
Robert  Burns  deserved,  for  all  our  sakes,  to  hat^e  been 
found  there.  For  the  man,  —  it  was  not  known  to 
men  purblind,  sunk  in  their  poor  dim  vulgar  element, 
but  might  have  been  know^n  to  men  of  insight  who 
had  any  loyalty  or  any  royalty  of  their  own,  —  was  d 
born  king  of  men  :    full  of  valor,  of  intelligence  and 


152  DOWNING    STREET. 

heroic  nobleness  ;  fit  for  far  other  work  than  to  break 
his  heart  among  poor  mean  mortals,  ganging  beer! 
Him  no  Tenpound  Conslitnency  chose,  nor  did  any 
Reforming  Premier:  in  the  deep-snnk  British  Nation, 
overwhelmed  in  foggy  stnpor,  with  the  loadstars  all 
gone  out  for  it,  there  was  no  whisper  of  a  notion  that 
it  could  be  desirable  to  choose  him,  — except  to  come 
and  dine  with  yon,  and  in  the  interim  to  gauge. 
And  yet  heaven-born  Mr.  Pitt,  at  that  period,  was  by 
no  means  without  need  of  Heroic  Intellects,  for  other 
purposes  than  gauging  !  But  sorrowful  strangulation 
by  redtape,  much  tighter  then  than  it  now  is  when  so 
many  revolutionary  earthquakes  have  tussled  it,  quite 
tied  up  the  meagre  Pitt ;  and  he  said,  on  hearing  of 
this  Burns  and  his  sad  hampered  case,  "  Literature 
Avill  take  care  of  itself."  —  "  Yes,  and  of  you  too,  if 
3^011  don't  mind  it !  "  answers  one. 

And  so,  like  Apollo  taken  for  a  Neatherd,  and  per- 
haps for-  none  of  the  best  on  the  Admetus  establish- 
ment, this  new  Norse  Thor  had  to  put  up  with  what 
was  going  ;  to  gauge  ale,  and  he  thankful  ;  pouring 
Ins  celestial  sunlight  through  Scottish  Song-writing, 
—  the  narrowest  chink  ever  offered  to  a  Thunder-god 
before  !  And  the  meagre  Pitt,  and  his  Dundasses  and 
redtape  Phantasms  (growing  very  ghastly  now  to 
think  of),  did  not  in  the  least  know  or  understand, 
the  impious  god-forgetting  mortals,  that  Heroic  In- 
tellects, if  Heaven  were  pleased  to  send  such,  were 
the  one  salvation  for  the  world  and  for  them  and  all 
of  us.  No;  they  'had  done  very  Avell  without' 
such  ;  did  not  see  the  use  of  such  ;  went  along  '  very  ^ 
well'   without  such;  well  presided  over  by  a  singii- 


DOWNING    STREET.  153 

lar  Heroic  Intellect  called  George  the  Third  ;  and 
the  Thimdergod,  as  was  rather  fit  of  liim,  de])arted 
early,  still  in  the.  noon  of  life,  somewhat  weary  of 
ganging  ale! — O  Peter,  what  a  scandalons  torpid 
element  of  yellow  London  fog,  favorahle  to  owls  only 
and  their  mousing  operations,  has  blotted  out  the 
stars  of  Heaven  for  us  these  several  generations 
back,  —  which,  I  rejoice  to  see,  is  now^  visibly  about 
to  take  itself  away  again,  or  perhaps  to  be  dispelled 
in  a  very  tremendous  manner ! 

For  the  sake  of  my  Democratic  friends,  one  other 
observation.  Is  not  this  Pioposal  the  very  essence  of 
whatever  truth  there  is  in  '  Democracy  ; '  this,  that  the 
able  man  be  chosen,  in  whatever  rank  he  is  found  ? 
That  he  be  searched  for  as  hidden  treasure  is  :  l)e 
trained,  supervised,  set  to  the  work  which  he  alone 
is  fit  for.  All  Democracy  lies  in  this  :  this,  I  think, 
is  worth  all  the  ballot-boxes  and  suffrage-movements 
now  going.  Not  that  the  noble  soul,  born  poor, 
shouW  be  set  to  spout  in  Parliament,  but  that  he 
should  be  set  to  assist  in  governing  men  :  this  is  our 
grand  Democratic  interest.  With  this  we  can  be 
saved  ;  without  this,  Avere  there  a  Parliament  spout- 
ing in  every  parish,  and  Hansard's  Debates  to  stem 
the  Thames,  we  perish, — die,  constitutionally  drowned, 
in  mere  oceans  of  palaver. 

V  All  reformers,  constitutional  persons,  and  men  capa- 
ble of  reflection,  are  invited  to  reflect  on  these  things. 
Let  us  brush  the  cobwebs  from  our  eyes  ;  let  us  bid 
the  inane  traditions  be  silent  for  a  moment  ;  and  ask 
ourselves,  like    men  dreadfidly  intent  on    having  it 


154  DOWNING    STREET. 

done,  "  By  what  method  or  methods  can  the  able 
men  from  every  rank  of  life  be  gathered,  as  dia- 
mond grains  from  tlie  general  mass  of  sand  ;  the 
able  men,  not  the  sham-able; — and  set  to  do' the 
work  of  governing,  contriving,  administering  and 
gniding  for  us?"  It  is  the  question  of  questions. 
All  that  Democracy  ever  meant  lies  there  :-  the  attain- 
ment of  a  truer  and  truer  Aristocracy,  or  Government 
again  by  the  Best. 

Reformed  Parlia-ments  have  lamentably  failed  to 
attain  it  for  us ;  and  I  believe  will  and  must  for- 
ever fail.  One  true  Reforming  Statesman,  one  noble 
worshipper  and  knower  of  human  intellect,  with  the 
quality  of  an  experienced  Politician  too;  he,  backed 
by  such  a  Parliament  as  England,  once  recognizing 
him,  would  loyally  send,  and  at  liberty  to  choose  his 
working  subalterns  from  all  the  Englishmen  alive  ; 
he  surely  might  do  something  ?  Something,  by. one 
means  or  another,  is  becoming  fearfully  necessary  to 
be  done  !  He,  I  think,  might  accomplish  more  for  us 
in  ten  years,  than  the  best  conceivable  Reformed 
Parliamei]t,  and  utmost  extension  of  the  suffrage,  in 
twice  or  ten  times  ten. 

What  is  extremely  important  too,  you  could  try 
this  method  with  safety  ;  extension  of  the  suffrage 
you  caimot  so  try.  With  even  an  approximately 
heroic  Prime  Minister,  you  could  get  nothing  but 
good  from  prescribing  to  him  thus,  to  choose  the 
fittest  man,  under  penalties:  to  choose,  not  the  fittest 
3f  the  four  or  three  men  that  were  in  Parliament, 
but  the  fittest  from  the  whole  Twenty-seven  Millions 
that  he  could   hear  of,  —  at  his  peril.     Nothhig  but 


DOWNING    STREET.  153 

good  from  this.  From  extension  of  the  suffrage,  some 
think,  you  might  get  quite  otlier  than  good.  From 
extension  of  tlie  sutfrage,  till  it  became  a  universal 
counting  of  heads,  one  sees  not  in  the  least  what 
wisdom  could  be  extracted.  A  Parliament  of  the 
Paris  pattern,  such  as  we  see  just  now,  might  be  ex- 
tracted :  and  from  that  ?  Solution  into  nniversal 
slush  ;  drownage  of  all  interests  divine  and  human, 
in  a  Noah's-Deluge  of  parliamentary  eloquence, — 
such  as  we  hope  our  sins,  heavy  and  manifold  though 
they  are,  hav^e  not  yet  quite  deserved  ! 


Who,  then,  is  to  be  the  Reforming  Statesman,  and 
begin  the  noble  work  for  us  ?  He  is  the  preliminary  ; 
one  such  ;  with  him  we  may  prosecute  the  enterprise 
to  length  after  length  ;  without  him  we  cannot  stir 
in  it  at  all.  A  true  Jcing.  temporary-king,  that  dare 
undertake  the  government  of  Britain,  on  condition  of 
beginning  in  sacred  earnest  to  '  reform  '  it,  not  at  this 
or  that  extremity,  but  at  the  heart  and  centre.  That 
will  expurgate  Downing  Street,  and  the  practical  Ad- 
ministration of  our  Affairs  ;  clear  out  its  accumulated 
mountains  of  pedantries  and  cobwebs  ;  bid  the  Pedants 
and  the  Dullards  depart,  bid  the  Gifted  and  the  Seeing 
enter  and  inhabit.  So  that  henceforth  there  be  Heav- 
c\\\Y  light  there,  instead  of  Stygian  dusk  ;  that  God's 
vivifying  light  instead  of  Satan's  deadening  and  kill- 
ing dusk,  may  radiate  therefrom,  and  visit  with  heal- 
ing all  regions  of  this  British  Empire,  which  now 
writhes  through  every  limb  of.it,  in  d^re  a^ony  as  if 


156  DOWxXING    STREET 

of  death !  The  enterprise  is  great,  the  enterprise 
may  be  called  formidable  and  even  awful  ;  bat  there 
is  none  nobler  among  tJie  sublunary  affairs  of  man- 
kind just  now.  Nay  tacitly  it  is  the  enterprise  of 
every  man  who  undertakes  to  be  British  Premier  in 
these  times  ;  —  and  I  cannot  esteem  him  an  enviable 
Premier  who,  because  the  engagement  is  tacit,  flatters 
himself  that  it  does  not  exist  !  "  Show  it  me  in  the 
bond,"  he  says.  Your  Lordship,  it  actually  exists  : 
and  I  think  you  will  see  it  yet,  in  another  kind  of 
'  bond  '  than  that  sheepskin  one  ! 


Bnt,  truly,  in  any  time,  what  a  strange  feeling, 
enongh  to  alarm  a  very  big  Lordship,  this  :  that  he, 
of  the  size  he  is,  has  got  to  the  apex  of  English  af- 
fairs !  Smallest  wrens,  we  know,  by  training  and 
the  aid  of  machinery,  are  capable  of  many  things. 
For  this  world  abounds  in  miraculous  combinations, 
far  transcending  anything  they  do  at  Drury  Lane  in 
the  melodramatic  way.  A  world  which,  as  solid  as  it 
looks,  is  made  all  of  aerial  and  even  of  spiritual  stufl"; 
permeated  all  by  incalculable  sleeping  forces  and  elec- 
tricities ;  and  liable  to  go  oft',  at  any  time,  into  the 
hugest  developments,  upon  a  scratch  thoughtfully  or 
thoughtlessly  given  on  the  right  point:  —  Nay,  for 
every  one  of  us,  could  not  the  sputter  of  a  poor  pis- 
tol-shot shrivel  the  Immensities  together  like  a  burnt 
scroll,  and  make  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  pass 
away  with  a  great  noise?  Smallest  wrens,  and 
canary-birds  of  some  dexterity,  can  be  trained  to  han- 
dle lucifer-matches  ;  and  have,  before  now,  fired-off 
whole  powder-magazines  and  parks  of  artillery.    Per- 


DOWKIXG    STREET.  157 

naps  tmfhonf  much  astonishment  to  the  canary-bird. 
The  canary-bird  can  hold  only  its  own  qnantity  of 
astonishment  ;  and  may  possibly  enongh  retain  its 
presence  of  mind,  were  even  Doomsday  to  come.  It 
is  on  this  principle  that  I  explain  to  myself  the  equa- 
nimity of  some  men  and  Premiers  whom  we  have 
known. 

This  and  the  other  Premier  seems  to  take  it  with 
perfect  coolness.  And  yet,  I  say.  what  a  strange 
feeling,  to  find  himself  Chief  Governor  of  England  ; 
girding  on,  upon  his  moderately-sized  new  soul,  the 
old  battle-harness  of  an  Oliver  Cromwell,  an  Edward 
Longshanks,  a  William  Conqueror.  '•  I  then  am  the 
Ablest  of  English  attainable  Men  ?  This  English 
People,  which  has  spread  itself  over  all  lands  and 
seas,  and  achieved  such  works  in  the  Ages,  —  which 
has  done  America,  India,  the  Lancashire  Cotton- 
trade,  Bromwicham  Iron-trade,  Newton's  Principia, 
Shakspeare's  Dramas,  and  the  British  Constitution,  — 
the  apex  of  all  its  intelligences  and  mighty  instincts 
and  dulTib  longings  :  it  is  I  ?  William  Conqueror's 
big  gifts,  and  Edward's  and  Elizabeth's;  Oliver's 
lightning  soul,  noble  as  Sinai  and  the  thunders  of  the 
Lord  :  these  are  mine,  I  begin  to  perceive,  —  to  a 
certain  extent.  These  heroisms  have  I,  —  though 
rather  shy  of  exhibitmg  them.  These;  and  some- 
thing withal  of  the  huge  beaver-faculty  of  our  Ark- 
wrights,  Brindleys  ;  touches  too  of  the  phoenix-mel- 
odies and  sunny  heroisms  of  our  Shakspeares,  of  our 
Singers,  Sages  and  inspired  Thinkers  :  all  this  is  in 
me,  I  will  hope,  —  though  rather  shy  of  exhibiting  it 
on  common  occasions.  The  Pattern  Englishman, 
14 


158  DOWNING    STREET. 

raised  by  solemn  acclamation  upon  the  bucklers  of 
the  English  People,  and  saluted  with  universal  'God 
save  THEE  !  ' — has  now  the  honor  to  announce  him- 
self. After  fifteen  hundred  years  of  constitutional 
study  as  to  methods  of  raising  on  the  bucklers,  which 
is  the  operation  of  operations,  the  English  people, 
surely  pretty  well  skilled  in  it  by  this  time,  has  raised 
—  the  remarkable  individual  now  addressing  you. 
The  best-combined  sample  of  whatsoever  divine 
qualities  are  in  this  big  People,  the  consummate  flow- 
er of  all  that  they  have  done  and  been,  the  ultimate 
Product  of  the  Destinies,  and  English  man  of  men, 
arrived  at  last  in  the  fuhiess  of  time,  is  —  who  think 
you  ?  Ye  worlds,  the  Ithuriel  javelin  by  which,  with 
all  these  heroisms  and  accumulated  energies  old  and 
new,  the  English  people  means  to  smite  and  pierce,  is 
this  poor  tailor's  bcdkin,  hardly  adequate   to  bore  an 

eyelet-hole,  who  now  has  the  honor  to  " Good 

Heavens,  if  it  were  not  that  men  generally  are  very 
much  of  the  canary-bird,  here  are  reflections  sufficient 
to  annihilate  any  man,  almost  before  starting  ! 

But  to  us  also  it  ought  to  be  a  very  strange  reflec- 
tion !  This,  then,  is  the  length  we  have  brought  it 
to,  with  our  constitutioning,  and  ballot-boxing,  and 
incessant  talk  and  elfort  in  every  kind  for  so  many 
centuries  back;  this?  The  golden  flower  of  our 
grand  alchemical  projection,  which  lias  set  the  world 
in  astonishment  so  long,  and  been  the  envy  of  sur- 
rounding nations,  is  —  what  we  here  see.  To  be 
governed  by  his  Lordsliip,  and  guided  through  the 
undiscovered  paths  of  Time  by  this  respectable  de- 
gr^,e    of    human    faculty.      With  our   utmost   soul's 


DOWICING    STREET.  159 

travail  we  could  discover,  by  the  sublimest  methods 
eulogized  by  all  the  world,  no  abler  Englishman  than 
this  ?  — 

Really  it  should  make  us  pause  upon  the  s^iid  sub- 
lime methods,  and  ask  ourselves  very  seriously,  wheth- 
er notwithstanding  the  eulogy  of  all  the  world,  they 
can  be  other  than  extremely  astonishing  methods,  that 
require  revisal  and  reconsideration  very  much  indeed  ! 
For  the  kind  of  'man  '  we  get  to  govern  us,  all  conclu- 
sions whatsoever  centre  there,  and  likewise  all  man- 
ner of  issues  flow  infallibly  therefrom.  '  Ask  well, 
who  is  your  Chief  Governor,' says  one :  'for  around 
him  men  like  to  him  will  infallibly  gather,  and  by 
degrees  all  the  world  will  be  made  in  his  image.' 
'  He  who  is  himself  a  noble  man,  has  a  chance  to 
know  the  nobleness  of  men  ;  he  who  is  not,  has  none. 
And  as  for  the  poor  public,  — alas,  is  not  the  kind  of 
"  man"  you  set  upon  it  the  liveliest  symbol  of  its  and 
your  veracity  and  victory  and  blessedness,  or  unve- 
racity  and  misery  and  cursedness  ;  the  general  sum- 
mation, and  practical  outcome,  of  all  else  whatsoever 
in  the  Public  and  in  you  ? ' 

Time  was  when  an  incompetent  Governor  could 
not  be  permitted  among  men.  He  was,  and  had  to 
be,  by  one  method  or  the  other,  clutched  up  from  his 
place  at  the  helm  of  affairs,  and  hurled  down  into  the 
hold,  perhaps  even  overboard,  if  he  could  not  really 
steer.  And  we  call  those  ages  barbarous,  because 
they  shuddered  to  see  a  Phantasm  at  the  helm  of  their 
affairs ;  an  eyeless  Pilot  with  constitutional  specta- 
cles, steering  by  the  ear  mainly?  And  we  have 
changed  all  that :  no-government    is  now    the  best 


160  DOWNING     STREF.T. 

and  a  tailor's  foreman  who  gives  no  trouble  is  prefer- 
able to  any  other  for  governing  ?  My  friends,  such 
truly  is  the  currentN  idea  ;  but  you  dreadfully  mistake 
yourselves,  and  the  fact  is  not  such.  The  fact,  now 
beginning  to  disclose  itself  again  in  distressed  Needle- 
women, famisliing  Coimaughts,  revolting  Colonies, 
and  a  general  rapid  advance  towards  Social  Ruin,  re- 
mains really  what  it  always  was,  and  will  so  remain  ! 
Men  have  very  much  forgotten  it  at  present ;  and 
only  here  a  man  and  there  a  man  begins  again  to  be- 
think himself  of  it:  but  all  men  will  gradually  get 
reminded  of  it,  perhaps  terribly  to  their  cost:  and  the 
sooner  they  all  lay  it  to  heart  again,  I  think  it  will  be 
the  better.  For  in  spite  of  our  oblivion  of  it,  the  thing 
remains  forever  true;  nor  is  there  any  Constitution 
or  body  of  Constitutions,  were  they  clothed  with 
never  such  venerabilities  and  general  acceptabilities, 
that  avails  to  deliver  a  Nation  from  the  consequences 
of  forgetting  it.  Nature,  I  assure  you,  does  forever- 
more  remember  it ;  and  a  hundred  British  Constitu- 
tions are  but  as  a  hundred  cobwebs  between  her  and 
the  penalty  she  levies  for  forgetting  it.  Tell  me  what 
kind  of  man  governs  a  People,  you  tell  me,  with  much 
exactness,  what  the  net  sum  total  of  social  worth  in 
that  People  has  for  some  time  been.  Whether  they 
have  loved  the  phylacteries  or  the  eternal  noblenesses; 
whether  they  have  been  struggling  heavenward  like 
eagles,  brothers  of  the  radiances,  or  groping  owl-like 
with  horn-eyed  diligence,  catching  mice  and  balances 
at  their  banker's, — poor  devils,  you  will  see  it  all  in 
that  one  fact.  A  fact  long  prepared  beforehand  ;  which 
if  it  is  a  peaceably  received  one,  must  have  been  ac- 


DOWNING    STREET.  161 

quiesced  in,  judged  to  be  'best,'  by  the  poor  mousing 
owls,  intent  only  to  liave  a  large  balance  at  their 
banker's  and   keep  a  whole  skin. 

Such  sordid  populations,  which  Avere  long  blind 
to  heaven's  light,  are  getting  themselves  burnt  up 
rapidly,  in  these  days,  bystreet-insurrection  and  Hell- 
fire; —  as  is  indeed  inevitable,  my  esteemed  M'Crow- 
dy  !  Light,  accept  thelblessed  light,  if  you  will  have 
it  when  Heaven  vouchsafes.  You  refuse  ?  You  pre- 
fer De  Lolme  on  the  British  Constitution,  the  Gospel 
according  to  M'Crowdy,  and  a  good  balance  at  your 
banker's?  Very  well  :  the  '  light'  is  more  and  more 
withdrawn;  and  for  some  time  you  have  a  general 
dusk,  very  favorable  for  catching  mice  ;  and  the  opu- 
lent owlery  is  very  Miappy,'  and  well  off  at  its  bank- 
er's;—  and  furthermore,  by  due  sequence,  infallible 
as  the  foundations  of  the  Universe  and  Nature's  oldest 
law,  the  ilght  returns  on  3^ou,  condensed,  this  time, 
into  lightnings  which  there  is  not  any  skin  whatever 
too  thick  for  taking  in  !- 
11* 


THE  NEW  DOWNING  STREET. 


In  looking  at  this  wreck  of  Governments  in  all  Eu- 
ropean countries,  there  is  one  consideration  that  sug- 
gests itself,  sadly  elucidative  of  our  modern  epoch. 
These  Governments,  we  may  be  well  assured,  have 
gone  to  anarchy  for  this  one  reason  inclusive  of  every 
other  whatsoever.  That  they  were  not  wise  enough  ; 
that  the  spiritual  talent  embarked  in  them,  the  virtue, 
heroism,  intellect,  or  by  whatever  other  synonyms  we 
designate  it,  was  not  adequate,  —  probably  had  long 
been  inadequate,  and  so  in  its  dim  helplessness  had 
suffered  or  perhaps  invited  falsity  to  introduce  itself; 
had  suffered  injnstices,  and  solecisms,  and  contradic- 
tions of  the  Divine  Fact,  to  accumulate  in  more  than 
tolerable  measure ;  whereupon  said  Governments 
were  overset,  and  declared  before  all  creatures  to  be 
too  false. 

This  is  a  reflection  sad  but  important  to  the  mod- 
ern Governments  now  fallen  anarchic,  That  they  had 
not  s[iiritual  talent  enough.  And  if  this  is  so,  then 
surely  the  question,  How  these  Governments  came  to 
sink  for  icant  of  intellect  ?  is  a  rather  interesting  one. 
Intellect,  in  some  measure,  is  born  into  every  Centu- 
ry ;  and  the  Nineteenth  flatters  itself  that  it  is  rather 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  163 

distinguished  that  way!  What  had  become  of  this  cele- 
brated Nineteenth  Century's  intellect  ?  Surely  some 
of  it  existed,  and  was  "developed"  withal;  —  nay, 
in  the  "  undeveloped,"  unconscious,  or  inarticulate 
state,  it  is  not  dead  ;  but  alive  and  at  work,  if  mutely 
not  less  beneficently,  some  think  even  more  so  !  And 
yet  Governments,  it  would  appear,  could  by  no  means 
get  enough  of  it  ;  almost  none  of  it  came  their  way  : 
what  had  become  of  it?  Truly  there  must  be  some- 
thing very  questionable,  either  in  the  intellect  of  this 
celebrated  Ccnlury,  or  in  the  methods  Governments 
now  have  of  supplying  their  wants  from  the  same. 
One  or  other  of  two  grand  fundamental  shortcomings, 
in  regard  to  intellect  or  human  enlightenment,  are 
very  visible  in  this  enlightened  Century  of  ours  ;  for 
it  has  now  become  the  most  anarchic  of  Centuries  ; 
that  is  to  say,  has  fallen  practically  into  such  Egyp- 
tian darkness  that  it  cannot  grope  its  way  at  all  ! 

Nay,  I  rather  think  both  of  these  shortcomings, 
fatal  deficits  both,  are  chargeable  upon  ns  ;  and  it  is 
the  joint  harvest  of  both  that  we  are  now  reaping, 
with  such  havoc  to  our  affairs.  I  rather  guess,  the 
hitellect  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,  so  full  of  miracle 
to  Hcavyside  and  others,  is  itself  a  mechanical  or 
heaver  intellect  rather  than  a  high  or  eminently  human 
one.  A  dim  and  mean  though  authentic  kind  of  in- 
tellect, this  ;  venerable  only  in  defect  of  better.  This 
kind  will  avail  but  little  in  the  higher  enterprises  of 
human  intellect,  especially  in  that  highest  enterprise 
of  guiding  men  Heavenward,  which,  after  all,  is  the 
one  real  "  governing  "  of  them  on  this  God's-Earth  : 
—  an  enterprise  not  to  be  achieved  by  beaver  intcl- 


\Ql  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

iectj  but  by  other  higher  and  highest  kinds.  This  is 
deficit  Jirst.  And  then  secondly^  Governments  have, 
really  to  a  fatal  and  extraordinary  extent,  neglected  in 
late  ages  to  supply  themselves  with  what  intellect  was 
going  ;  having,  as  was  too  natural  in  the  dim  time, 
taken  up  a  notion  that  human  intellect,  or  even 
beaver  intellect,  was  not  necessary  to  them  at  all,  but 
that  a  little  of  the  vulpine  sort  (if  attainable),  sup- 
ported by  routine,  redtape  traditions,  and  tolerable 
parliamentary  eloquence  on  occasion,  would  very  well 
suffice.  A  most  false  and  impious  notion  ;  leading 
to  fatal  lethargy  on  the  part  of  Governments,  while 
Nature  and  Fact  were  preparing  strange  phenomena 
in  contradiction  to  it. 

These  are  two  very  fatal  deficits  ;  —  the  remedy 
of  either  of  which  would  be  the  remedy  of  both, 
could  we  but  find  it  !  For  indeed  they  are  vitally 
connected:  one  of  them  is  sure  to  produce  the  other; 
and  both  once  in  action  together,  the  advent  of 
darkness,  certain  enough  to  issue  in  anarchy  by  and 
by,  goes  on  with  frightful  acceleration.  If  Govern- 
ments neglect  to  invite  what  noble  intellect  there  is, 
then  too  surely  all  intellect,  not  omnipotent  to  resist 
bad  influences,  will  tend  to  become  beaverish  igno- 
ble intellect ;  and  quitting  high  aims  which  seem 
shut  up  from  it,  will  help  itself  forward  in  the  way  of 
making  money  and  suchlike  ;  or  will  even  sink  to  be 
sham  intellect,  helping  itself  by  methods  which  are  not 
only  beaverish  but  vulpine,  and  so  "  ignoble  "  as  not 
to  have  common  honesty.  The  Government,  taking 
no  thought  to  choose  intellect  for  itself,  w^ill  gradually 
find  that  there  is  less  and  less  of  a  good  quality  to 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  165 

choose  from  :  thus,  as  in  all  impieties  it  does,  bad 
grows  worse  at  a  frightful  double  rate  of  progression; 
and  yonr  impiety  is  twice  cursed.  If  yon  are  impious 
enough  to  tolerate  darkness,  you  will  get  ever  more 
darkness  to  tolerate  ;  and  at  that  inevitable  stage  of 
the  account  (inevitable  in  all  such  accounts)  when 
actual  light  or  else  destruction  is  the  alternative,  you 
will  call  to  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  for  light,  and 
none  will  come  ! 

Certainly  this  evil,  for  one,  has  7zo/ "  wrought  its 
own  cure;"  but  has  wrought  precisely  the  reverse, 
and  has  been  hourly  eating  away  what  possibilities 
of  cure  there  were.  And  so,  I  fear,  in  spite  of  ru- 
mors to  the  contrary,  it  always  is  with  evils,  with 
solecisms  against  Nature,  and  contradictions  to  the 
divine  fact  of  things:  not  an  evil  of  them  has  ever 
wrought  its  own  cure  in  my  experience  ;  —  but  has 
continually  grown  worse  and  wider  and  uglier,  till 
some  good  (generally  a  good  man)  not  able  to  endure 
the  abomination  longer,  rose  upon  it  and  cured  or 
else  extinguished  it.  Evil  Governments,  divested  of 
God's  light  because  they  have  loved  darkness  rather, 
are  not  likelier  than  other  evils  to  work  their  own 
cure  out  of  that  bad  plight. 

It  is  urgent  upon  all  Governments  to  pause  in  this 
fatal  course  ;  persisted  in,  the  goal  is  fearfully  evi- 
dent ;  every  hour's  persistance  in  it  is  making  return 
more  difficult.  Intellect  exists  in  all  countries  ;  and 
the  function  appointed  it  by  Heaven,  —  Governments 
had  better  not  attempt  to  contradict  that,  for  they 
cannot !  Intellect  Jlcis  to  govern  in  this  world  ;  and 
will  do  it,  if  not  in  alliance  with  so-called  "  Govern- 


166  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

ments"  of  redtape  and  routine,  then  in  divine  hostil- 
ity to  such,  and  sometimes  ahis  in  diabolic  hostility 
to  such  ;  and  in  the  end,  as  sure  as  Heaven  is  higher 
than  Downing  Street,  xind  the  Laws  of  Nature  are 
tougher  than  redtape,  with  entire  victory  over  thein 
and  entire  ruin  to  them.  If  there  is  one  thinking 
man  among  the  Politicians  of  England,  I  consider 
these  things  extremely  well  worth  his  attention  just 
now. 

Who  are  available  to  your  Offices  in  Downing 
Street?  All  the  gifted  souls,  of  every  rank,  who  are 
born  to  you  in  this  generation.  These  are  appointed, 
by  the  true  eternal  "divine  right"  which  will  never 
become  obsolete,  to  be  your  governors  and  adminis- 
trators ;  and  precisely  as  you  employ  them,  or  neglect 
to  employ  them,  will  your  State  be  favored  of  Heaven 
or  disfavored.  This  noble  young  soul,  you  can  have 
him  on  either  of  two  conditions  ;  and  on  one  of 
them,  since  he  is  here  in  the  world,  you  must  have 
him.  As  your  ally  and  coadjutor  ;  or,  failing  that,  as 
your  natural  enemy  :  which  shall  it  be  ?  I  consider 
that  every  Government  convicts  itself  of  infatuation 
and  futility,  or  absolves  and  justifies  itself  before  God 
and  man,  according  as  it  answers  this  question.  With 
all  sublunary  entities,  this  is  the  question  of  ques- 
tions. What  talent  is  born  to  you  ?.  How  do  you 
employ  that  ?  The  crop  of  spiritual  talent  that  is 
born  to  you,  of  human  nobleness  and  intellect  and 
heroic  faculty,  this  is  infinitely  more  important  than 
your  crops  of  cotton  or  corn,  or  wine  or  herrings  or 
whale-oil,  which  the  Newspapers  record  with  such 
anxiety  every  season.     This  is -not  quite  counted  by 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  167 

seasons,  therefore  the  Newspapers  are  silent  :  but  by- 
generations  and  centnries,  I  assure  ycu  it  beccnies 
amazingly  sensible  ;  and  surpasses,  as  Heaven  dees 
Earth,  all  the  corn  and  wine,  and  whale-oil  and 
California  bullion,  or  any  other  crop  yon  grow.  If 
that  crop  cease,  the  other  crops  —  please  to  take 
them,  also,  if  you  are  anxious  about  them.  That 
once  ceasing,  we  may  shut  shop  ;  for  no  other  crop 
whatever  will  stay  with  us,  nor  is  worth  having  if  it 
would. 

To  promote  men  of  talent,  to  search  and  sift  the 
whole  society  in  every  class  for  men  of  talent,  and 
joyfully  promote  them,  has  not  always  been  found 
impossible.  In  many  forms  of  polity  they  have  done 
it,  and  still  do  it,  to  a  certain  degree.  The  degree  to 
which  they  succeed  in  doing  it,  marks,  as  I  have 
said,  with  very  great  accuracy  the  degree  of  divine 
and  human  worth  that  is  in  them,  the  degree  of  suc- 
cess or  real  ultimate  victory  they  can  expect  to  have 
in  this  world.  —  Think,  for  example,  of  the  Old 
Catholic  Church,  in  its  merely  terrestrial  relations  to 
the  State  ;  and  see  if  your  reflections,  and  contrasts" 
with  what  now  is,  are  of  an  exulting  character. 
Progress  of  the  species  has  gone  on  as  with  seven- 
league  boots,  and  to  various  directions  has  shot  ahead 
amazingly,  with  three  cheers  from  all  the  world  ;  but 
in  this  direction,  the  most  vital  and  indispensable,  it 
has  lagged  terribly,  and  has  even  moved  backward, 
till  now  it  is  quite  gone  out  of  sight  in  clouds  of  cot- 
ton-fuz  and  railway-scrip,  and  has  fallen  fairly  over 
the  horizon  to  rearward  ! 

In   those  most   benighted   Feudal   societies,  full  of 


168  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

mere  tyrannous  steel  Barons,  and  totally  destitute  of 
Tenpound  Franchises  and  Ballotboxes,  there  did 
nevertheless  authentically  preach  itself  every  where 
this  grandest  of  gospels,  without  whicli  no  other 
gospel  can  avail  us  much,  to  all  souls  of  men, 
'•Awake,  ye  noble  souls  ;  here  is  a  noble  career  for 
yon  !  "  1  say,  every  where  a  road  towards  promotion, 
for  human  nobleness,  lay  wide  open  to  all  men.  The 
pious  soul,  —  which,  if  you  reflect,  will  mean  the 
ingenuous  and  ingenious,  the  gifted,  intelligent  and 
nobly  aspiring  soul,  —  snch  a  soul,  iu  whatever  rank 
of  life  it  were  born,  had  one  path  inviting  it ;  a 
generous  career,  whereon,  by  human  worth  and  valor, 
all  earthly  heights  and  Heaven  itself  were  attainable. 
In  the  lowest  stratum  of  social  thraldom,  nowhere 
was  the  noble  soul  doomed  quite  to  choke,  and  die 
ignobly.  The  Church,  poor  old  benighted  creature, 
had  at  least  taken  care  of  that  :  the  noble  aspiring 
soul,  not  doomed  to  choke  ignobly  in  its  penuries, 
conld  at  least  run  into  the  neighboring  Convent,  and 
there  take  refuge.  Education  awaited  it  there  ;  strict 
training  not  only  to  whatever  useful  knowledge 
could  be  had  from  writing  and  reading,  but  to  obe- 
dience, to  pious  reverence,  self-r'  raint,  annihilation 
of  self,  —  really  to  human  nobleness,  in  maiiy  most 
essential  respects.  No  questions  asked  about  your 
birth,  genealogy,  quantity  of  money,  capital,  or  the 
like;  the  one  question  was,  ''Is  there  some  human 
nobleness  in  yon,  or  is  there  not?"  The  poor  neat- 
herd's son,  if  he  were  a  Noble  of  Nature,  might  rise 
to  "Priesthood,  to  High-priesthood,  to  the  top  of  this 
worldj  —  and  best  of  all,  he  had  still  high  Heaven 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  169 

lying  high  enough  above  him,  to  keep  his  head 
steady,  on  whatever  height  or  in  whatever  depth  his 
way  might  He  ! 

A  thrice-giorions  arrangement,   when  I  reflect  on 
it  ;  most  saUitary  to  all  high  and  low  interests,  a  truly 
human    arrangement.       You    made    the    born    noble 
yours,  welcoming  him  as  what  he  was,  the  Sent  of 
Heaven :    you    did   not    force    him    either    to  die  or 
become  your  enemy;  idly  neglecting  or  suppressing 
him  as  what  he  was  not,  a  thing  of  no  worth.     You 
accepted  the  blessed  light ;  and  in  the  shape  of  infer- 
nal lightning  it  needed   not  to  visit  you.      How,  like 
an    immense  mine-shaft  through  the  dim  oppressed 
strata  of  society,  this  Institution  of  tlie  Priesthood  ran  ; 
opening,  from  the  lowest  depths  towards  all  heights  and 
towards  Heaven  itself,  a  free  road  of  egress  and  emer- 
gence towards  virtuous  nobleness,  heroism  and  well- 
doing, for  every  born  man.     This  we  may  call  the  liv- 
ins:  luns^s  and  blood-circulation  of  those  old  Feudal- 
isms.     When  I  think  of  that  immeasurable  all-pervad- 
ing lungs  ;  present  in  every  corner  of  human  society, 
every  meanest  hut  a  cell  of  said  lungs ;  inviting  what- 
soever noble  pious  soul  was   born  there  to  the  path 
that  was  noble  for  him  ;  and  leading  thereby,  some- 
times, if  he  were  worthy,  to  be  the  Papa  of  Christen- 
dom, and  Commander  of  all  Kings,  —  I  perceive  how 
the  old  Christian  society  continued  healthy,  vital,  and 
was  strong  and  heroic.    When  I  contrast  this  with  the 
noble  aims  now  held  out  to  noble  souls  born  in  remote 
huts,  or  beyond  the  verge  of  Palace- Yard  ;  and  think 
of  what  your  Lordship  has  done  in  the  w^ay  of  mak- 
ing   priests    and    papas,  —  I    see    a    society    without 
15 


170  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

lungs,  fast   wheezing   itself  to  death,  in  horrid  con- 
vulsions;  and  deserving  to  die. 

Ofer  Europe  generally  in  these  years,  I  consider 
that  the  State  has  died,  has  fairly  coughed  its  last  in 
street  musketry,  and  fallen  down  dead,  incapable  of 
any  but  galvanic  life  henceforth,  —  owing  to  this 
same  fatal  want  of  lungs ^  which  includes  all  other 
wants  for  a  State.  And  furthermore  that  it  will 
never  come  alive  again,  till  it  contrive  to  get  such 
indispensable  vital  apparatus ;  the  outlook  toward 
which  consummation  is  very  distant  in  most  commu- 
nities of  Europe.  If  you  let  it  come  to  death 
or  suspended-animation  in  States,  the  case  is  very 
bad  !  Vain  to  call  in  universal-sufiVage  parliaments 
at  that  stage  :  the  universal-sutirage  parliaments  can- 
not give  you  any  breath  of  life,  cannot  find  any 
wisdom  for  you  ;  by  long  impiety,  you  have  let  the 
supply  of  noble  human  wisdom  die  out;  and  the 
wisdom  that  now  courts  your  universal-suffrages  is 
beggarly  human  aitonieyism  or  sham-Avisdom,  which 
is  not  an  insight  into  the  Laws  of  God's  Universe, 
but  into  the  laws  of  hungry  Egoism  and  the  Devil's 
Chicane,  and  can  in  the  end  profit  no  community 
or  man. 

No  ;  the  kind  of  heroes  that  come  mounted  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  universal-suffrage,  and  install  them- 
selves as  Prime  Ministers  and  healing  Statesmen  by 
force  of  able  editorship,  do  not  bid  very  fair  to  bring 
Nations  back  to  the  ways  of  God.  Eloquent  \\\^\\- 
\3.cke\L'd  pinchbeck  specimens  these,  expert  in  the  arts 
of  Belial  mainly  ;  —fitter  to  be  markers  at  some  ex- 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


171 


ceedingly  expensive  billiard-table,  than  sacred  chief- 
priests  of  men  !  "Greeks  of  the  Lower  Empire  ;" 
with  a  varnish  of  parh'amentary  rhetoric  ;  and,  I  sup- 
pose, this  other  great  gift,  toughness  of  character, 
—  proof  that  they  have  persevered  in  their  Master's 
service.  Poor  wretches,  their  industry  is  mob-worship, 
place-worship,  parliamentary  intrigue,  and  the  multi- 
plex art  of  tongue-fence  r  flung  into  that  bad  element, 
there  they  swim  for  decades  long,  throttling  and 
wrestling  one  another  according  to  their  strength, — 
and  the  toughest  or  lucldest  gets  to  land,  and  becomes 
Premier.  A  more  entirely  nnbeautiful  class  of  Pre- 
miers was  never  *raked  out  of  the  ooze,  and  set  on 
high  places,  by  any  ingenuity  of  man.  Dame  Du- 
barry's  petticoat  was  a  better  seine-net  for  fishing  out 
Premiers  than  that.  Let  all  Nations  whom  necessity 
is  driving  towards  that  method,  take  warning  in  time  ! 
Alas,  there  is,  in  a  manner,  but  one  Nation  that  can 
still  take  warning  !  In  England  alone  of  European 
Countries  the  State  yet  survives ;  and  might  help  itself 
by  better  methods.  In  England  heroic  wisdom  is  not 
yet  dead,  and  quite  replaced  by  attorneyism :  the 
honest  beaver  faculty  yet  abounds  with  us,  the  heroic 
manful  faculty  shows  itself  also  to  the  observant  eye, 
not  dead  but  dangerously  sleeping.  I  said  there  were 
many  kirigs  in  England  :  if  these  can  yet  be  rallied 
into  strenuous  activity,  and  set  to  governing  England 
in  Downing  Street  and  elsewhere,  which  their  func- 
tion always  is,  —  then  England  can  be  saved  from 
anarchies,  and  universal  sufl'rages,  and  that  Apotheosis 
of  Attorneyism,  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses,  may  be 
spared  us.     If  these  cannot,  the  other  issue,  in  such 


172  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

forms  as  may  be  appropriate  to  us,  is  inevitable. 
\Yhat  escape  is  there  ?  England  must  conform  to  the 
eternal  laws  of  life,  or  England  too  must  die  ! 

.  England,  with  the  largest  mass  of  real  living  in- 
terests ever  intrusted  to  a  Nation;  and  with  amass  of 
extinct  imaginary  and  quite  dead  interests  piled  upon  it 
to  the  very  Heavens,  and  encumbering  it  from  shore  to 
shore, — does  reel  and  stagger  ominously  in  these  years: 
urged  by  the  Divine  Silences  and  the  Eternal  Laws 
to  take  practical  hold  of  its  living  interests  and  man- 
age them  ;  and  clutching  blindly  into  its  venerable 
extinct  and  imaginary  interests,  as  if  that  were  still 
the  way  to  do  it.  England  must  contrive  to  manage 
its  living  interests,  and  quit  its  dead  ones  and  their 
methods,  or  else  depart  from  its  place  in  this  world. 
Surely  England  is  called  as  no  Nation  ever  was,  to 
summon  out  its  ki7ig-s,  and  set  them  to  that  high 
^vork  !  —  Huge  inorganic  England,  nigh  choked 
under  the  exuvias  of  a  thousand  years,  and  blindly 
sprawling  amid  Chartism,  ballotboxes,  prevenient 
graces,  and  bishop's  nightmares,  must,  as  the  prelim- 
inary and  commencement  of  organization,  learn  to 
breathe  again,  —  get  "lungs"  for  herself  again,  as 
we  defined  it.  That  is  imperative  upon  her :  she 
too  will  die,  otherwise,  and  cough  her  last  upon  the 
streets  some  day;  —  how  can  she  continue  living? 
To  enfranchise  whatsoever  of  Wisdom  is  born  in 
England,  and  set  that  to  the  sacred  task  of  coercing 
and  amending  what  of  folly  is  born  in  England  : 
Heaven's  blessing  is  purchasable  by  that  ;  by  not 
that,  only  Heaven's  curse  is  purchasable.  The  re- 
form contemplated,  my  liberal   friends  perceive,  is  a 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  173 

truly  radical  one  ;  no  ballntbox  ever  went  so  deep 
into  tlie  roots:  a  radical,  most  painful,  slow  and  difFi- 
cult,  but  most  indispensable  reform  of  reforms  ! 

How  short  and  feeble  an.  approximation  to  these 
nigh  ulterior  results,  the  best  Reform  of  Downing 
Street,  presided  over  by  the  fittest  Statesman  one 
can  imagine  to  exist  at  present,  would  be,  is  too 
apparent  to  me.  A  long  time  yet  till  we  get  our 
living  interests  put  under  due  administration,  till  we 
get  our  dead  interests  handsomely  dismissed.  A  long 
time  yet  till,  by  extensive  change  of  habit  and  ways 
of  thinking  and  acting,  ice  get  living  "  lungs  "  for 
ourselves  !  Nevertheless,  by  Reform  of  Downing 
Street,  we  do  begin  to  breathe  ;  we  do  start  in  the 
way  towards  that  and  all  high  results.  Nor  is  there 
visible  to  me  any  other  way.  Blessed  enough,  were 
the  way  once  entered  on ;  could  we,  in  our  evil  days, 
but  see  the  noble  enterprise  begun,  and  fairly  in 
progress ! 

What  the  "  New  Downing  Street "  can  grow  to, 
and  will  and  must  if  England  is  to  have  a  Downing 
Street  beyond  a  few  years  longer,  it  is  far  from  me, 
in  my  remote  watchtower,  to  say  with  precision.  A 
Downing  Street  inhabited  by  the  gifted  of  the  intel- 
lects of  England  ;  directing  all  its  energies  upon  the 
real  and  living  interests  of  England,  and  silently  but 
incessantly,  in  the  alembics  of  the  place,  burning  up 
the  extinct  imaginary  interests  of  England,  that  we 
may  see  God's  sky  a  little  plainer  overhead,  and  have 
all  of  us  a  great  accession  of  "  heroic  Avisdom  "  to 
dispose  of:  such  a  Downing  Street  —  to  draw  the 
15* 


174  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STEEET. 

plan  of  it,  will  require  architects  ;  many  successive 
architects  and  builders  will  be  needed  there.  Let 
not  editors,  and  remote  unprofessional  persons,  inter- 
fere too  much!  —  Change  in  the  present  edifice, 
however,  radical  change,  all  men  can  discern  to  be 
inevitable  :  and  even,  if  there  shall  not  worse 
swiftly  follow.^  to  be  imminent.  Outlines  of  the 
future  edifice  paint  themselves  against  the  sky  (to 
men  that  still  have  a  sky,  and  are  above  the  miserable 
LondoUvfogs  of  the  hour);  noble  elements  of  new 
State  Architecture,  foreshadows  of,  a  New  Downing 
Street  for  the  New  Era  that  is  come.  These  with 
pious  hope  all  men  can  see  ;  and  it  is  good  that  all 
men,  with  whatever  faculty  they  have,  were  earnestly 
looking  thitherward  ;  —  trying  to  get  above  the  fogs, 
that  they  might  look  thitherward  ! 


Among  practical  men  the  idea  prevails  that  Gov- 
ernment can  do  nothing  but  "  keep  the  peace."  They 
say  all  higher  tasks  are  unsafe  for  it,  impossible  for 
it,  —  and  in  fine  not  necessary  for  it  or  for  us.  On 
this  footing,  a  very  feeble  Downing  Street  might 
serve  the  turn  !  —  I  am  well  aware  that  Government, 
for  a  long  time  past,  has  taken  in  hand  no  other  public 
task,  and  has  professed  to  have  no  other,  but  that  of 
keeping  the  peace.  This  public  task,  and  the  private 
one  of  ascertaining  whether  Dick  or  Jack  was  to  do 
it,  have  amply  filled  the  capabilities  of  Government 
for  several  generations  now.  Hard  tasks  both,  it 
would    appear.     In  accomplishing   the   first,  for  ex- 


TEE    NETV    DOWNING    STREET.  175 

ample,  have  not  heaven-born  Chancellors  of  the  Ex- 
chequer had  to  shear  us  very  bare  ;  and  to  leave  an 
overplus  of  Debt,  or  of  fleeces  shorn  before  they  are 
grown,  justly  esteemed   among  the  wonders   of  the 
world  ?     Not  a  first-rate  keeping  of  the  peace,  this, 
we  begin  to  surmise  !     At  least  it  seems  strange  to  us. 
For  we,  and  the  overwhelming  majority  of  ^all  our 
acquaintances,  in  this  Parish  and  Nation  and  the  ad- 
jacent Parishes  and  Nations,  are  profoundly  conscious 
to   ourselves  of  being  by  nature   peaceable  persons  ; 
following    our    necessary    industries ;    without   wish, 
interest  or  faintest  intention  to   cut  the  skin  of  any 
mortal,  to  break  feloniously  into  his   industrial  prem- 
ises, or  do  any  injustice  to   him  at  all.     Because   in- 
deed, independent    of  Government,  there   is  a   thing 
called  conscience,  and  we  dare  not.     So  that  it  can- 
not but  appear  to  us,  '•  the  peace,"  under  dexterous 
management,  might  be  very  much  more  easily  kept, 
your    Lordship;    nay,  we   almost  think,   if   well   let 
alone,  it  would  in  a  measure  keep  itself  among  such 
a  set  of  persons  !     And  how  it  happens  that  when  a 
poor   hardworking    creature    of    us    has    laboriously 
earned  sixpence,  the  Government  comes  in,  and   (as 
some  compute)   sUys,    "  I  will   thank  you  for  three- 
pence of  that,  as  per  account,   for   getting  you  peace 
to  spend  the  other  threepence,"  our  amazement  begins 
to  be  considerable,  —  and  I  think  results  will  follow 
from  it  by  and  by.     Not  the  most  dexterous  keeping 
of  the  peace,  your  Lordship,  unless   it  be  more  diffi- 
cult to  do  than  appears  ! 

Our  domestic  peace,  we  cannot  but  perceive,  as  good 
as  keeps  itself.     Here   and   there  a  select  Equitable 


176  THE    NEW    DOWxNING    STREET. 

Person,  appointed  by  the  Public  for  that  end,  clad  in 
ermine,  and  backed  by  certain  companies  of  blue 
Police,  is  amply  adeqnate,  without  immoderate  out- 
lay in  money  or  otherwise,  to  keep  down  the  few 
exceptional  individuals  of  the  scoundrel  kind  ;  who 
we  observe,  by  the  nature  of  them,  are  always  weak 
and  inconsiderable.  And  as  to  foreign  peace,  really 
all  Europe,  now  especially  with  so  many  railroads, 
public  journals,  printed  books,  penny-posts,  bills  of 
exchange,  and  continual  intercourse  and  mutual  de- 
pendence, is  more  and  more  becoming  (so  to  speak) 
one  Parish  ;  the  Parishioners  of  which  being,  as  we 
ourselves  are,  in  immense  majority  peaceable  hard- 
working people,  could,  if  they  were  moderately  v/ell 
guided,  have  almost  no  disposition  to  quarrel.  Their 
economic  interests  are  one,  "  To  buy  in  the  cheapest 
market  and  sell  in  the  dearest  ;  "  their  faith,  any 
religious  faith  they  have,  is  one,  "To  annihilate 
shams,  —  by  all  methods,  street-barricades  included." 
Why  should  they  quarrel  ?  The  Czar  of  Prussia,  in 
the  Eastern  parts  of  the  Parish,  may  have  other 
notions  ;  but  he  knows  too  Avell  he  must  keep  them 
to  himself.  He,  if  he  meddled  with  the  Western 
parts,  and  attempted  anywhere  to  crush  or  disturb 
that  sacred  Democratic  Faith  of  theirs,  is  aware  thero 
would  rise  from  a  hundred  and  fifty  million  human 
throats  such  a  Hymn  of  the  Marseillese  as  was  never 
heard  before  ;  and  England,  France,  Germany,  Po- 
land, Hungary  and  the  Nine  Kingdoms,  hurling 
themselves  upon  him  in  never-imagined  fire  of  ven- 
geance, would  swiftly  reduce  his  Russia  and  him  to 
a  strange  situation  1     Wherefore   he   forbears,  —  and 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  177 

being  a  person  of  some  sense,  will  long  forbear.  In 
spite  of  editorial  prophecy,  the  Czar  of  Russia  does 
not  disturb  our  night's  rest.  And  with  the  other 
parts  of  the  Parish  our  dreams  and  our  thoughts  are 
of  anything  but  of  fighting,  or  of  the  smallest  need 
to  fight. 

For  keeping  of  the  peace,  a  t?iing  highly  desirable 
to  us.  we  strive  to  be  grateful  to  your  Lordship. 
Intelligible  to  us,  also,  your  Lordship's  reluctance  to 
get  out  of  the  old  routine.  But  we  beg  to  say  far- 
ther, that  peace  by  itself  has  no  feet  to  stand  upon, 
and  would  not  suit  us  even  if  it  had.  Keeping  of 
the  peace  is  the  function  of  a  policeman,  and  but  a 
small  fraction  of  that  of  any  Government,  King  or 
Chief  of  men.  Are  not  all  men  bound,  and  the  Chief 
of  men  in  the  name  of  all,  to  do  properly  this:  To 
see,  so  far  as  human  effort  under  pain  of  eternal  rep- 
robation can,  God's  Kingdom  incessantly  advancing 
here  below,  and  His  will  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
Heaven  ?  On  Sundays  your  Lordship  knows  this 
well  ;  forget  it  not  on  weekdays.  I  assure  you  it  is 
forevermore  a  fact.  That  is  the  immense  divine  and 
never-ending  task  which  is  laid  on  every  man,  and 
v/ith  unspeakable  increase  of  emphasis  on  every 
Government  or  Commonwealth  of  men.  Your 
Lordship,  that  is  the  basis  upon  which  peace  and  all 
else  depends  !  That  basis  once  well  lost,  there  is  no 
peace  capable  of  being  kept,  —  the  only  peace  that 
could  then  be  kept  is  that  of  the  churchyard.  Your 
Lordship  may  depend  on  it,  whatever  thing  takes 
upon  it  the  name  of  Sovereign  or  Goveriiment  in 
an  English  Nation  such  as  this,  will  have  to  get  out 


178  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

of  that    old    routine  ;  and  set  about    keeping    some- 
thing very  different  from  the  peace,  in  these  days  ! 

Truly  it  is  high  time  that  same  beautiful  notion  of 
No-Government  should  take  itself  away.  The  world 
is  daily  rushing  towards  wreck,  while  that  lasts.  If 
yoiu-  Government  is  to  be  a  Constituted  Anarchy, 
wliat  issue  can  it  have  ?  Our  one  interest  in  such 
Government  is,  that  it  would  be  kind  cnougli  to  cease 
and  go  its  ways,  before  the  inevitable  arrive.  The 
question.  Who  is  to  float  atop  nowhither  upon  the 
popular  vortexes,  and  act  that  sorry  cliaracter,  '•  car- 
cass of  the  drowned  ass  upon  the  mud-delngo?  "  is 
by  no  means  an  important  one  for  almost  anybody, 
—  hardly  even  for  the  drowned  ass  himself.  Such 
drowned  ass  ought  to  ask  himself,  U  the  function  is 
a  sublime  one  ?  For  him  too,  though  he  looks 
sublime  to  the  vulgar  and  floats  atop,  a  private  situ- 
ation, down  out  of  sight  in  his  natiu-al  ooze,  would 
be  a  luckier  one. 

Crabbe,  speaking  of  constitutional  philosophies, 
faith  in  the  ballotbox  and  suchlike,  has  tliis  indignant 
passage:  "If  any  voice  of  deliverance  or  resusci- 
tation reach  us,  in  this  our  low  and  allbut  lost  estate, 
sunk  almost  beyond  plummet's  sounding  in  the  mud 
of  Lethe,  and  oblivious  of  all  noble  objects, — it 
will  be  an  intimation  that  we  must  put  away  all  this 
abominable  nonsense,  and  understand,  once  more, 
that  Constituted  Anarchy,  with  however  many  bal- 
lotboxes,  caucuses,  and  hustings-beerbarrels,  is  a 
continual  offence  to  gods  and  men.  That  to  be 
governed  by  small  men  is  not  only  a  misfortune,  but 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STTIEET.  179 

it  is  a  curse  and  a  sin ;  the  effect,  and  alas  the  cause 
also,  of  all  manner  of  curses  and  sins.  Thsyt  to  pro- 
fess subjection  to  phantasms,  and  pretend  to  accept 
guidance  from  fractional  parts  of  tailors,  is  what 
Smelfungus  in  his  rude  dialect  calls  it,  '  a  damned 
lie,''  and  nothing  other.  A  lie  which,  by  long  use 
and  wont,  we  have  grown  accustomed  to,  and  do  not 
the  least  feel  to  be  a  lie,  having  spoken  and  done  it 
continually  everywhere  for  such  a  long  time  past  ;  — 
but  has  Nature  grown  to  accept  it  as  a  veracity,  think 
you,  my.  friend  ?  Have  the  Parca3  fallen  asleep, 
because  you  wanted  to  make  money  in  the  City  ? 
Nature  at  all  moments  knows  well  that  it  is  a  lie  ; 
and  that,  like  all  lies,  it  is  cursed  and  damned  from 
the  beginning. 

"  Even  so,  ye  indigent  millionaires,  and  miserable 
bankrupt  populations  rolling  in  gold,  —  whose  note 
of  hand  will  go  to  any  length  in  Threadneedle  Street,' 
and  to  whom  in  Heaven's  Bank  the  stern  answer  is, 
'  No  effects  !  '  Bankrupt,  I  say  ;  and  Californias  and 
Eldorados  will  not  save  us.  And  every  time  we  speak 
such  lie,  or  do  it  or  look  it,  as  we  have  been  inces- 
santly doing,  and  many  of  us  with  clear  conscious- 
ness, for  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  now,  Nature 
marks  down  the  exact  penalty  against  us.  '  Debtor 
to  so  much  lying  :  forfeiture  of  existing  stock  of 
worth  to  such  extent; — approach  to  general  damna- 
tion by  so  much.'  Till  now,  as  we  look  round  us 
over  a  convulsed  anarchic  Europe,  and  at  home  over 
an  anarchy  not  3^et  convulsed,  but  only  heaving 
towards  convulsion,  and  to  judge  by  the  Mosaic  sweat- 
ing-establishmentSj  cannibal    Connaughts    and  other 


80  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

symptoms,  not  far  from  convulsion  now,  we  seem  to 
have  pi*tty  much  exhausted  our  accumulated  stock 
of  worth  ;  and,  unless  money's  '  worth  '  and  bullion 
at  the  Bank  will  save  us,  to  be  rubbing  very  close  upon 
that  ulterior  bourne  which  I  do  not  like  to  name 
again  ! 

"  On  behalf  of  nearly  twenty-seven  millions  of  my 
fellow-countrymen,  sunk  deep  in  Lethean  sleep,  with 
mere  owl-dreams  of  Political  Economy  and  mice- 
catching,  in  this  pacific  thrice-infernal  slush-element ; 
and  also  of  certain  select  thousands,  and  hundreds  and 
units,  awakened  or  beginning  to  awaken  from  it,  and 
with  horror  in  their  hearts  perceiving  where  they  are, 
I  beg  to  protest,  and  in  the  name  of  God  to  say,  with 
poor  human  ink,  desirous  much  that  I  had  divine 
thunder  to  say  it  with.  Awake,  arise  —  before  you 
sink  to  death  eternal !  Unnameable  destruction,  and 
banishment  to  Houndsditch  and  Gehenna,  lies  in 
store  for  all  Nations  that,  in  angry  perversity  or  brutal 
torpor  and  owlish  blindness,  neglect  the  eternal  mes- 
sage of  the  gods,  and  vote  for  the  Worse  while  the 
Better  is  there.  Like  owls  they  say,  '  Barabbas  will 
do  ;  any  orthodox  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,  and 
peaceable  believer  in  M'Crowdy  and  the  Faith  of 
Leave-alone  will  do  :  the  Right  Honorable  Minimus 
is  well  enough ;  he  shall  be  our  Maximus,  under  him 
it  will  be  handy  to  catch  mice,  and  Owldom  shall 
continue  a  flourishing  empire.'  '* 

One  thing  is  undeniable,  and  must  be  continually 
repeated  till  it  get  to  be  understood  again  :  Of  all  con- 
stitutions, forms  of  government,  and  political  methods 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  I3l 

amang  men,  the  question  to  be  asked  is  even  this, 
What  kind  of  nian  do  you  set  over  us  ?  All  questions 
are  answered  in  the  answer  to  this.  Another  thing 
is  worth  attending  to  :  No  people  or  populace,  with 
never  such  ballotboxes,  can  select  such  man  for  you  ; 
only  the  man  of  worth  can  recognize  worth  in  men  ; 
to  the  commonplace  man  of  no  or  of  little  worth,  you. 
unless  you  wish  to  be  misled,  need  not  apply  on  such 
an  occasion.  Those  poor  Tenpound  Franchisers  of 
yours,  they  are  not  even  in  earnest ;  the  poor  sniffing 
sniggering  Honorable  Gentlemen  they  send  to  Parlia- 
ment are  as  little  so.  Tenpound  Franchisers  full 
of  mere  beer  and  balderdash  ;  Honorable  Gentlemen 
come  to  Parliament  as  to  an  Almack's  series  of  even- 
ing parties,  or  big  cockmain  (battle  of  all  the  cocks) 
very  amusing  to  witness  and  bet  upon  :  what  can  or 
conld  men  in  that  predicament  ever  do  for  you  ? 
Nay,  if  they  were  in  life-and-death  earnest,  what  could 
it  avail  you  in  such  a  case?  1  tell  you,  a  million 
blockheads  looking  authoritatively  into  one  man  of 
what  you  call  genius,  or  noble  sense,  will  make  noth- 
ing but  nonsense  out  of  him  and  his  qualities,  and  his 
virtues  and  defects,  if  they  look  till  the  end  of  time. 
He  understands  them,  sees  what  they  are  ;  but  that 
they  should  understand  him,  and  see  with  rounded 
outline  what  his  limits  are,  — this,  which  would  mean 
that  they  arc  bigger  than  he,  is  forever  denied  them. 
Their  one  good  understanding  of  him  is  that  they  at 
last  should  loyally  say,  "We  do  not  quite  understand 
thee  ;  we  perceive  thee  to  be  nobler  and  wiser  and 
bigger  than  we,  and  will  loyally  follow  thee." 

The  question  therefore  arises,  Wliether,  since  re- 
16 


182  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

form  of  parliament  and  suchlike  have  done  so  little 
in  that  respect,  the  problem  might  not  be  with  some 
hope  attacked  in  the  direct  manner  ?  Suppose  all 
our  Institutions,  and  Public  Methods  of  Procedure,  to 
continue  for  the  present  as  they  are  ;  and  suppose 
farther  a  Reform  Premier,  and  the  English  Nation 
once  awakening  under  him  to  a  due  sense  of  the  infi- 
nite imp(-)rtance,  nay,  the  vital  necessity  there  is  of 
getting  able  and  abler  men  :  —  might  not  some  heroic 
wisdom,  and  actual  "ability'*  to  do  what  must  be 
done,  prove  discoverable  to  said  Premier  ;  and  so  the 
indispensable  Heaven 's-blessing  descend  to  us  from 
above,  since  none  has  yet  sprung  from  below  ?  From 
above  we  shall  have  to  try  it  ;  the  other  is  exhausted, 
—  a  hopeless  method  that  !  The  utmost  passion  of 
the  house-inmates,  ignorant  of  masonry  and  archi- 
tecture, cannot  avail  to  cure  the  house  of  smoke  ; 
not  if  tJtey  vote  and  a';,itate  forever,  and  bestir  them- 
selves to  the  'en^th  even  of  street-barricades,  v/ill 
the  smoke  in  the  least  abate  :  how  can  it  ?  Their 
passion  exercised  in  such  w-ays,  till  Doomsday,  will 
avail  them  nothing.  Let  their  passion  rage  steadily 
against  the  existing  majordomos  to  this  effect,  "  Find 
ns  men  skilled  in  house-building,  acquainted  with 
the  laws  of  atmospheric  suction,  and  capable  to  cure 
smoke  ;  "  something  niisht  come  of  it  !  In  the 
lucky  circumstance  of  having  one  man  pf  real  intel- 
lect and  courage  to  put  at  tl;e  head  of  the  movement, 
much  would  come  of  it  ;  —  a  'Kew  Downing  Street, 
fit  for  the  Britisli  Natio-;.  p.nd  its  bitter  necessities  in 
this  New  Era,  woula  r^jp-e  :  and  from  that,  in  answer 
to  continuous  sacred  fidelity  and  valiant  toil,  all  good 
whatsoever  would  gradually  come. 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  1R3 

Of  the  Contjnental  nuisance  called  "  Bureaucracy,'^ 
—  if  this  should  alarm  any  reader,  —  I  can  see  no 
risk  or  possibility  in  England.  Democracy  is  hot 
enough  here,  fierce  enough  ;  it  is  perennial,  univer- 
sal, clearly  invincible,  among  us  henceforth.  No 
danger  it  should  let  itself  be  flung  in  chains  by  sham 
secretaries  of  the  Pedant  species,  and  accept  their 
vile  Age  of  Pinchbeck  for  its  Golden  Age  !  Democ- 
racy clamors,  with  its  Newspapers,  its  Parliaments, 
and  all  its  Twenty-seven  million  throats,  continually 
in  this  Nation  forevermore.  I  remark,  too,  that  the 
unconscious  purport  of  all  its  clamors  is  even  this, 
"Find  us  men  ^killed,"  —  make  a  new  Downing 
Street,  fit  for  the  New  Era ! 


Of  the  Foreign  Office,  in  its  reformed  state,  we 
have  not  much  to  say.  Abolition  of  imaginary  work, 
and  replacement  of  it  by  real,  is  on  all  hands  under- 
stood to  be  very  urgent  there.  Large  needless  ex- 
penditures of  money,  immeasurable  ditto  of  hypoc- 
risy and  grimace  ;  embassies,  protocols,  worlds  of 
extinct  traditions,  empty  pedantries,  foul  cobwebs  :  — 
but  we  'TVill  by  no  means  apply  the  "  live  coal  "  of 
our  witty  friend ;  the  Foreign  Office  will  repent,  and 
not  be  driven  to  suicide  !  A  truer  time  will  come 
for  the  Contine-ntal  Nations  too  :  Authorities  based  on 
truth,  and  on  the  silent  or  spoken  Worship  of  Human 
Nobleness,  will  again  get  themselves  established 
there  ;  all  Sham-Authorities,  and  consequent  Real- 
Anarchies  based  on  universal  suffrage  and  the  Gospel 


184  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

according  to  George  Sand,  being  put  away  :  ahd  no- 
ble action,  heroic  new-developments  of  human  fac- 
ulty and  industry,  and  blessed  fruit  as  of  Paradise 
getting  itself  conquered  from  the  waste  battle-field  of 
the  chaotic  elements,  will  once  more,  there  as  here, 
begin  to  show  themselves. 

When  the  Continental  Nations  have  once  got  to 
the  bottom  of  i](.cir  Augean  Stable,  and  begun  to 
have  real  enterprises  based  on  the  eternal  facts  again, 
our  Foreign  Office  may  again  have  extensive  con- 
cerns with  them.  And  at  all  times,  and  even  now, 
there  will  remain  the  question  to  be  sincerely  put  and 
wisely  answered,  AVhat  essential  concern  has  the 
British  Nation  with  them  and  their  enterprises  ?  Any 
concern  at  all,  except  that  of  handsomely  keeping 
apart  from  them  ?  If  so,  Avhat  are  the  methods  of 
best  managing  it?  —  At  present,  as  was  said,  while 
Red  Republic  but  clashes  with  foul  Bureaucracy  ; 
and  Nations,  sunk  in  blind  ignavia,  demand  a  univer- 
sal-suffrage Parliament  to  heal  their  wretchedness  ; 
and  wild  Anarchy  and  Phallus-Worship  struggle  with 
Sham-Kingship  and  extinct  or  galvanized  Catholi- 
cism ;  and  in  the  Cave  of  the  Winds  all  manner  of 
rotten  waifs  and  wrecks  are  hurled  against  each 
other,  — our  English  interest  in  the  controversy,  how- 
ever huge  said  controversy  grow,  is  quite  trifling  ; 
we  have  only  in  a  handsome  manner  to  say  to  it  : 
"  Tumble  and  rage  along,  ye  rotten  waifs  and  wrecks  ; 
clash  and  collide  as  seems  fittest  to  you  ;  and  smite 
each  other  into  annihilation  at  your  own  good  pleas- 
ure. In  that  huge  conflict,  dismal  but  unavoidable, 
we,  thanks  to  our  heroic  ancestors,  having  got  so  far 


THE    N2W    DOWNING    STREET.  185 

ahead  of  you,  have  noAV  no  interest  at  all.  Onr  de- 
cided notion  is,  the  dead  ought  to  bury  theii  dead  in 
such  a  case  :  and  so  we  have  the  honor  to  be,  witli 
distinguished  consideration,  your  entirely  devoted,  — 
Flimnap,  Sec.  Foreign  Department." — I  really 
think  Flimnap,  till  truer  times  come,  ought  to  treat 
much  of  his  work  in  this  Avay  :  cautious  to  give  of- 
fence to  his  neighbors  ;  resohite  not  to  concern  him- 
self in  any  of  their  self-annihilating  operations  what- 
soever. 

Foreign  wars  are  sometimes  unavoidable.  We 
ourselves,  in  the  course  of  natural  merchandizing  and 
laudable  business,  have  now  and  then  got  into  am- 
biguous situations  ;  into  quarrels  which  needed  to  be 
settled,  and  without  fighting  would  not  settle.  Sugar 
Islands,  Spice  Islands,  Indias,  Canadas,  —  these,  by 
the  real  decree  of  Heaven,  were  ours  :  and  nobody 
would  or  could  believe  it,  till  it  was  tried  by  cannon 
law,  and  so  proved.  Such  cases  happen.  In  former 
times  especially,  owing  very  much  to  want  of  inter- 
course and  to  the  consequent  mutual  ignorance,  there 
did  occur  misunderstandings:  and  therefrom  many 
foreign  wars,  some  of  them  by  no  means  unnecessary. 
With  China,  or  some  distant  country,  too  unintelli- 
gent of  us  and  too  unintelligible  to  us,  there  still 
sometimes  rises .  necessary  occasion  for  a  war. 
Nevertheless  wars.  —  misunderstandings  that  get  to 
the  length  of  arguing  themselves  out  by  sword  and 
cannon,  — have,  in  these  late  generations  of  improved 
intercourse,  been  palpably  becoming  less  and  less 
necessary ;  have  in  a  manner  become  superfluous,  — 
16* 


183  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

if  we  had  a  little  wisdom,  and  our  Foreign  Office  on 
a  good  footing. 

Of  European  wars  I  really  hardly  remember  any, 
since  Oliver  Cromwell's  last  Protestant  or  Liberation 
I  war  with  Popish  antichristian  Spain  some  two  hun- 
j  (ked  years  ago,  to  which  I  for  my  own  part  could 
y{  have  contributed  my  life  with  any  heartiness,  or  in 
I  fact  would  have  subscribed  money  itself  to  any  con- 
1  siderable  amount.  Dutch  William,  a  man  of  some 
heroism,  did  indeed  get  into  troubles  with  Louis 
Fourteenth  ;  and  there  rested  still  some  shadow  of 
Protestant  Interest,  and  question  of  National  arid 
individual  Independence,  over  those  wide  controver- 
sies :  a  little  money  and  human  enthusiasm  was  still 
due  to  Dutch  William.  Illustrious  Chatham  also,  not 
to  speak  of  his  Manilla  ransoms  aiid  the  like,  did 
one  thing  :  assisted  Fritz  of  Prussia,  a  brave  man 
and  king  (almost  the  only  sovereign  King  I  have 
known  since  Cromwell's  time)  like  to  be  borne  down 
by  ignoble  men  and  sham-kings  ;  for  this  let  illus- 
trious Chatham  too  have  a  little  money  and  human 
enthusiasm,  —  a  little,  by  no  means  much.  But  what 
am  I  to  say  of  heavenborn  Pitt  the  son  of  Chatham? 
England  sent  forth  her  fleets  and  armies;  her  money 
into  every  country  ;  money  as  if  the  heavenborn 
Chancellor  had  got  a  Fortunatus'  piu'se  ;  as  if  this 
Island  iiad  become  a  volcanic  fountain  of  gold,  or 
new  terrestrial  sun  capable  of  radiating  mere  guineas. 
The  result  of  all  which,  what  was  it?  Elderly  men 
can  remember  the  tarbarrels  burnt  for  success  and 
thrice  immortal  victory  in  the  business,  and  yet  what 
result  had  we  ?    The  French  Revolution,  a  Fact  de- 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  187 

creed  in  the  Eternal  Councils,  could  not  be  put  down  ; 
the  result  was,  that  heavenborn  Pitt  had  actually- 
been  fighting  (as  the  old  Hebrews  would  have  said) 
against  the  Lord,  —  that  the  Laws  of  Nature  were 
stronger  than  Pitt.  Of  whom,  therefore,  there  re- 
mains chieily  his  unaccountable  radiation  of  guineas, 
for  the  gratitude  of  posterity.  Thank  you  for  noth- 
ing, —  for  eight  hundred  millions  less  than  nothing  ! 

Onr  War-Ofllccs,  Admiralties,  and  other  Fighting 
Establishments,  are  forcing  themselves  on  everybody's 
attention  at  this  time.  Bull  grumbles  audibly  :  "  The 
money  you  have  cost  me  these  five-and-thirty  years, 
during  which  you  have  stood  elaborately  ready  to 
fight,  al  any  moment,  without  at  any  moment  being 
called  to  fight,  is  surely  an  astonishing  sum.  The 
National  Debt  itself  might  have  been  half  paid  by 
that  money,  which  has  all  gone  in  pipeclay  and  blank 
cartridges!"  Yes,  Mr.  Bull,  the  money  can  be 
counted  in  hundreds  of  millions;  which  certainly  is 
something:  —  but  the  "strenuously  organized  idle- 
ness," and  what  misclnef  that  amounts  to,  —  have 
you  computed  it?  A  perpetual  solecism,  and  blas- 
phemy (of  its  sort,)  set  to  march  openly  among  us, 
dressed  in  scarlet  !  Bull,  with  a  more  and  more 
sulky  tone,  demands  that  such  solecism  be  abated  ; 
that  these  Fighting  Establishments  be  as  it  were  dis- 
banded, and  set  to  do  some  work  in  the  Creation, 
since  fighting  there  is  now  none  for  them.  This 
demand  is  irrefiagably  just,  is  growing  urgent  too  ; 
and  yet  this  demand  cannot  be  complied  with, — not 
yet  while  the  State  grounds  itself  on  unrealities,  and 
Downing  Street  continues  what  it  is. 


138  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

The  old  Romans  made  their  soldiers  woiic  during 
intervals  of  war.  The  New  Downing  Street,  too, 
we  may  predict,  will  have  less  and  less  tolerance  for 
idleness  on  the  part  of  soldiers  or  others.  Nay.  the 
New  Downing  Street,  I  foresee,  when  once  it  has  got 
its  ^'Industrial  Regiments"  organized,  will  make 
these  mainly  do  its  fighting,  what  fighting  there  is  ; 
and  so  save  immense  sums.  Or,  indeed,  all  citizens 
of  the  Commonwealth,  as  is  the  right  and  the  interest 
of  every  free  man  in  this  world,  will  have  themselves 
trained  to  arms  ;  each  citizen  ready  to  defend  his 
country  with  his  own  body  and  soul,  —  he  is  not 
Avorthy  to  have  a  country  otherwise.  In  a  State 
grounded  on  veracities,  that  would  be  the  rule. 
Downing  Street,  if  it  cannot  bethink  itself  of  return- 
ing to  the  veracities,'-will  have  to  vanish  altogether ! 

To  fight  with  its  neighbors  never  Avas,  and  is  now 
less  than  ever,  the  real  trade  of  England.  For  far 
other  objects  was  the  English  People  created  into 
this  world ;  sent  down  from  the  Eternities,  to  mark 
with  its  history  certain  spaces  in  the  current  of  sub- 
lunary Time!  Essential,  too,  that  the  English  People 
should  discover  what  its  real  objects  are  ;  and  reso- 
lutely follow  these,  resolutely  refusing  to  follow  other 
than  these.  The  State  will  have  victory  so  far  as  it 
can  do  that ;  so  far  as  it  cannot,  defeat. 

In  the  New  Downing  Street,  discerning  what  its 
real  functions  are,  and  with  sacred  abhorrence  putting 
away  from  it  what  its  functions  are  not^  we  can  fancy 
changes  enough  in  Foreign  Office,  War  Office,  Colo- 
nial Office,  Home  Office  !  Our  War-soldiers  Indus- 
trial, first  of  all;   doing  nobler  -than  Roman  works, 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  189 

Avhen  fighting  is  not  wanted  of  them.  Seventy-fours 
not  hanging  idly  by  tlieir  anchors  in  the  Tagus,  or 
off  Sapienza  (one  of  the  saddest  sights  under  the  sun), 
but  busy,  every  Seventy-four  of  them,  carrying-over 
streams  of  British  Industrials  to  the  immeasurable 
Britain  that  lies  beyond  the  sea  in  every  zone  of  the 
world.  A  State  grounding  itself  on  the  veracities, 
not  on  the  semblances  and  the  injustices  :  every  citi- 
zen a  soldier  for  it.  Here  would  be  new  real  Secre- 
taryships and  Ministries,  not  for  foreign  war  and 
diplomacy,  but  for  domestic  peace  and  utility.  Min- 
ister of  Works  ;  Minister  of  Justice,  —  clearing  his 
Model  prisons  of  their  scoundrelism  ;  shipping  his 
scoundrels  wholly  abroad,  under  hard  and  just  drill- 
serjeants  (hundreds  of  such  stand  wistfully  ready  for 
you,  these  thirty  years,  in  the  Rag-and-Famish  Club 
and  elsewhere!)  into  fertile  desert  countries;  to  make 
.railways.  —  one  big  railway  (says  the  Major*)  quite 
across  America";  fit  to  employ  all  the  able-bodied 
Scoundrels  and  efficient  Half-pay  Officers  in  Nature  ! 
Lastly, — or  rather /rs//?/,  and  as  the  preliminary 
of  all,  — would  there  not  be  a  Minister  of  Education  ? 
Minister  charged  to  get  this  English  People  taught  a 
little,  at  his  and  our  peril  !  Minister  of  Education  ; 
no  longer  dolefully  embayed  amid  the  wreck  of 
moribund  '-  religions,"  but  clear  ahead  of  all  that  ; 
steering,  free  and  piously  fearless,  towards  Ids  divine 

goal  under  the  eterr.al  stars  ! O,  Heaven  !    and 

are  these  things  forever  impossible,  then  ?  Not  a 
whit.  To-morrow  morning  they  might  all  begin 
to  be,  and  go  on   through  blessed  centuries  realizing 

♦  Major  Carmichael  Smith  :  see  liis  Pamplilets  on  this  subject. 


190  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

themselv^es,  if  it  were  not  that,  — alas,  if  it  were  not 
that  we  are  most  of  us  insincere  persons,  sham  talk- 
ing-machines, and  hollow  windy  fools  !  Which  it  is 
nol  *'  impossible  "  that  we  should  cease  to  be,  I  hope  ! 


Constitutions  for  the  Colonies  are  now  on  the 
anvil  ;  the  discontented  Colonies  are  all  to  be  cured 
of  their  miseries  by  Constitutions.  Whether  that  will 
care  their  miseries,  or  only  operate  as  a  Godfrey's 
Cordial  to  stop  their  whimpering,  and  in  the  end 
w^orsen  all  their  miseries,  may  be  a  sad  doubt  to  us* 
One  thing  strikes  a  remote  spectator  in  these  Colonial 
questions :  the  singular  placidity  with  which  the 
British  Statesman  at  this  time,  backed  by  M'Crowdy 
and  the  British  monied  classes,  is  prepared  to  surren- 
der whatsoever  interest  Britain,  as  foundress  of  those 
establishments,  might  pretend  to  have  in  the  decision. 
"  If  you  want  to  go  from  us,  go  ;  we  by  no  means 
want  you  to  stay  :  you  cost  us  money  yearly,  which 
IS  scarce  ;  desperate  quantities  of  trouble,  too  ;  why 
not  go,  if  you  wish  it  ?  "  Such  is  the  humor  of  the 
British  Statesman,  at  this  time.  Men  clear  for  rebel- 
lion, '•  annexation  -'  as  they  call  it,  walk  openly  abroad 
in  our  American  Colonies  ;  found  newspapers,  hold 
platform  palaverings.  From  Canada  there  comes 
duly  by  each  mail  a  regular  statistic  of  Annexation- 
ism  :  increasing  fast  in  this  quarter,  diminishing  in 
that ;  —  Majesty's  Chief  Governor  seeming  to  take  it 
as  a  perfectly  open  question  ;  Majesty's  Chief  Gov- 
ernor in  fact  seldom  appearing  on  the  scene  at  all, 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  191 

except  to  receive  the  impact  of  a  i^ew  rotten  eggs  on 
occasion,  and  then  duck  in  again  to  his  private  con- 
templations. And  yet  one  would  think  the  Majes- 
ty's Chief  Governor  ought  to  have  a  kind  of  interest 
in  the  thing?  Pubhc  liberty  is  carried  to  a  great 
length  in  some  portions  of  her  Majesty's  dominions. 
But  tlie  question.  "Are  we  to  continue  subjects  of 
her  Majesty,  or  start  rebelhng  against  her  ?  So  many 
as  are  for  rebeUing,  hold  up  your  hands  !  "  Here  is 
a  public  discussion  of  a  very  extraordinary  nature  to 
be  going  on  under  the  nose  of  a  Governor  of  Canada. 
How  the  Governor  of  Canada,  being  a  British  piece 
of  flesh  and  blood,  and  not  a  Canadian  lumber-log  of 
mere  pine  and  rosin,  can  stand  it,  is  not  very  conceiv- 
able at  first  view.  He  does  it  seemingly,  with  the 
stoicism  of  a  Zeno.  It  is  a  constitutional  sight  like 
few. 

And  yet  an  instinct  deeper  than  the  Gospel  of 
M'Crowdy  teaches  all  men  that  Colonies  are  worth 
oomething  to  a  country  !  That  if,  under  the  present 
Colonial  Office,  they  are  a  vexation  to  us  and  them- 
selves, some  other  Colonial  Office  can  and  must  be 
contrived  which  shall  render  them  a  blessing  ;  and 
that  the  remedy  will  be  to  contrive  such  a  Colonial 
Ollice  or  method  of  administration,  and  by  no  means 
to  cut  the  Colonies  loose.  Colonies  are  not  to  be 
picked  off  the  street  every  day ;  not  a  Colony  of 
them  but  has  been  bought  dear,  well  purchased  by 
the  toil  and  blood  of  those  we  have  the  honor  to  be 
sons  of"^;  and  we  cannot  just  afl^'ord  to  cut  them  away 
because  M'Crowdy  finds  the  present  management  of 
them   cost   mouey.     The    present  management  will 


192  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

indeed  require  to  be  cut  away  ;  — but  as  for  the  Col- 
onies, we  purpose  through  Heaven's  blessing  to  retain 
them  a  while  yet !  Shame  on  us  for  unworthy  sons 
of  brave  fathers  if  we  do  not.  Brave  fathers,  by  val- 
iant blood  and  sweat,  purchased  for  us,  from  the 
bounty  of  Heaven,  rich  possessions  in  all  zones  ;  and 
we.  wretched  imbeciles,  cannot  do  the  function  of 
administering  them  !  And  because  the  accounts  do 
not  stand  well  in  the  ledger,  our  remedy  is,  not  to 
take  shame  to  ourselves,  and  repent  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes,  and  amend  our  beggarly  imbecilities  and  insin- 
cerities in  that  as  in  other  departments  of  our  busi- 
ness, but  to  fling  the  business  overboard,  and  declare 
the  business  itself  to  be  bad  !  We  are  a  hopeful  set 
of  heirs  to  a  big  fortune  !  It  does  not  suit  our  Man- 
ton  gunneries,  grouse-shootings,  mousings  in  the 
City  ;  and  like  spirited  young  gentlemen  we  will 
give  it  up  and  let    the  attorneys  take  it? 

Is  there  no  value,  then,  in  human  things,  but  what 
can  write  itself  down  in  the  cash-ledger?  All  men 
know,  and  even  M'Crowdy  in  his  inarticulate  heart 
knows,  that  to  men  and  Nations  there  are  invaluable 
values  which  cannot  be  sold  for  money  at  all.  George 
Robins  is  great  ;  but  he  is  not  omnipotent.  George 
Robins  cannot  quite  sell  Heaven  and  Earth  by  auc- 
tion, excellent  though  he  be  at  the  business.  Nay, 
if  M'Crowdy  offered  his  own  life  for  sale  in  Thread- 
needle  Street,  would  anybody  buy  it  ?  Not  I,  for 
one.  "  Nobody  bids  :  pass  on  to  the  next  lot,"  an- 
swers Robins.  And  yet  to  M'Crowdy  this  unsaleable 
lot  is  worth  all  the  Universe  :  —  nay,  I  believe,  to  us 
also  it  is  worth  something  ;  good  monitions,  as  to  sev- 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  193 

eral  things,  do  lie  in  this  Professsor  of  the  Dismal 
Science  ;  and  considerable  sums  even  of  money,  not 
to  speak  of  other  benefit,  will  yet  come  out  of  his 
life  and  him,  for  which  nobody  bids!  Robins  has 
his  own  field  whore  he  reigns  triumphant ;  but  to  that 
we  will  restrict  him  with  iron  limits;  and  neither 
Colonies  nor  the  lives  of  Professors,  nor  other  such 
invaluable  objects  shall  come  under  his  hammer. 

Bad  state  of  the  ledger  will  demonstrate  that  your 
way  of  dealing  with  your  Colonies  is  absurd,  and 
urgently  in  want  of  reform  ;  but  to  demonstrate  that 
the  Empire  itself  must  be  dismembered  to  bring  the 
ledger  straight  ?  Oh  never.  Something  else  than  the 
ledger  must  intervene  to  do  that.  Why  does  not 
England  repudiate  Ireland,  and  insist  on  the  ''  Repeal," 
instead  of  prohibiting  it  under  death-penalties?  Ire- 
land has  never  been  a  paying  speculation  yet,  nor  is 
it  like  soon  to  be  !  Why  does  not  Middlesex  repudi- 
ate Surrey,  and  Chelsea  Kensington,  and  each  county 
and  each  parish,  and  in  the  end  each  individual  set  up 
for  himself  and  his  cash-box,  repudiating  the  other 
and  his,  because  their  mutual  interests  have  got  into 
an  irritating  course  ?  They  must  change  the  course, 
seek  till  they  discover  a  soothing  one  ;  that  is  the 
remedy,  when  limbs  of  the  same  body  come  to  irritate 
one  another.  Because  tiie  paltry  tatter  of  a  garment, 
reticulated  for  you  out  of  thrums  and  listings  in 
Downing  Street,  ties  foot  and  hand  together  in  an  in- 
tolerable manner,  will  you  relieve  yourself  by  cutting 
off  the  hand  or  the  foot  ?  You  will  cut  off  the  pal- 
try tatter  of  a  pretended  body-coat,  I  think,  and  fling 
that  to  the  nettles  ;  and  imperatively  require  one  that 
17 


194  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

fits  your  size  better.  Miserabler  theory  than  that 
of  money  on  the  ledger  being  the  primary  rule  for 
Empires,  or  for  any  higher  entity  than  City  owls  and 
their  mice-catching;  cannot  well  be  propounded.  And 
I  would  by  no  means  advise  Felicissimus,  ill  at  ease 
on  his  high-trotting  and  now  justly  impatient  Sles- 
wicker,  to  let  the  poor  horse  in  its  desperation  go  in 
that  direction  for  a  momentary  solace.  If  by  lumber- 
log  Governors,  by  Godfrey's-cordial  Constitutions  or 
otherwise,  he  contrive  to  cut  off  the  Colonies  or  any 
real  right  the  big  British  Empire  has  in  her  colonies, 
both  he  and  the  British  Empire  will  bitterly  repent  it 
one  day !  The  Sleswicker,  relieved  in  ledger  for  a 
moment,  will  fiiid  that  it  is  wounded  in  heart  and 
honor  forever ;  and  the  turning  of  its  wild  forehoofs 
upon  Felicissimus  as  he  lies  in  the  ditch  combed  off, 
is  not  a  thing  I  like  to  think  oiT!  Britain,  whether 
it  be  known  to  Felicissimus  or  not,  has  other  tasks 
appointed  her  in  God's  Universe  than  the  making  of 
money ;  and  woe  will  betide  her  if  she  forget  those 
other  withal.  Tasks,  colonial  and  domestic,  which 
are  of  an  eternally  divine  nature,  and  compared  with 
which  all  money,  and  all  that  is  procurable  by  money, 
are  in  strict  arithmetic  an  imponderable  quantity,  have 
been  assigned  this  Nation;  and  they  also  at  last  are 
coming  upon  her  again,  clamorous,  abstruse,  inevita- 
ble, much  to  her  bewilderment  just  now  ! 

This  poor  Nation,  painfully  dark  about  said  tasks 
and  the  way  of  doing  them,  means  to  keep  its  Col- 
onies nevertheless,  as  things  which  somehow  or  other 
must  have  a  value,  were  it  better  seen  into.  They 
are  portion?  of  the  geuei'al  Earth,  where  the  childxeii 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


195 


of  Britain  now  dwell  ;  where  the  gods  have  so  far  sanc- 
tioned their  endeavor,  as  to  say  that  they  have  a  right 
to  dwell.  England  will  not  readily  admit  that  her 
own  children  are  worth  nothing  but  to  be  flung  out 
of  doors  !  England  looking  on  her  Colonies  can  say  : 
''Here  are  lands  and  seas,  spice-lands,  corn-lands,  tim- 
ber-lands, overarched  by  zodiacs  and  stars,  clasped  by 
many-sounding  seas ;  wide  spaces  of  the  Maker's 
building,  fit  for  the  cradle  yet  of  mighty  nations  and 
their  Sciences  and  Heroisms.  Fertile  continents  still 
inhabited  by  wild  beasts  are  mine,  into  which  all  the 
distressed  populations  of  Europe  might  pour  themselves 
and  make  at  once  an  Old  World  and  a  New  World  hu- 
man. By  the  eternal  fiat  of  the  gods,  this  must  yet 
one  day  be;  this,  by  all  the  Divine  Silences  that  rule 
this  Universe,  silent  to  fools,  eloquent  and  awful  to 
the  hearts  of  the  wise,  is  incessantly  at  this  moment, 
and  at  all  moments,  commanded  to  begin  to  be.  Un- 
speakable deliverance,  and  new  destiny  of  thousand- 
fold expanded  manfulness  for  all  men,  dawns  out  of 
the  Future  here.  To  me  has  fallen  the  godlike  task 
of  initiating  all  that  :  of  me  and  of  my  Colonies,  the 
abstruse  Future  asks.  Are  you  Avise  enough  for  so 
sublime  a  destiny  ?  Are  you  too  foolish  ?  " 

That  you  ask  advice  of  whatever  wisdom  is  to  be 
had  in  the  Colony,  and  even  take  note  of  what  tin- 
wisdom  is  in  it,  and  record  that  too  as  an  existing  fact, 
will  certainly  be  very  advantageous.  But  I  suspect 
the  kind  of  Parliament  that  will  suit  a  Colony  is 
much  of  a  secret  just  now  !  Mr.  Wakefield,  a  demo- 
cratic man  in  all  fibres  of  him,  and  acquainted  with 


196  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

Colonial  Socialities  as  few  are,  judges  that  the  fran- 
chi?e  for  your  Colonial  Parliament  should  be  decided- 
ly seleqt,  and  advises  a  high  money  qualification  ;  as 
there  is  in  all  colonies  a  fluctuating,  migratory  mass, 
not  destitute  of  money,  but  very  much  so  of  loyalty, 
permanency,  or  civic  availability  ;  —  whom  it  is  ex- 
tremely advantageous  not  to  consult  on  Avhat  you  are 
about  attempting  for  the  Colony  or.  Mother  Country^ 
This  I  can  well  believe  ;  —  and  also  that  a  '--  high 
money  qualiiication,"  in  the  present  sad  state  of  hu- 
man affairs,  might  be  some  help  to  you  in  selecting; 
though  whether  even  that  would  quite  certainly  bring 
"wisdom,"  the  one  thing  indispensable,  is  much  a 
question  with  me.  It  might  help,  it  might  help! 
And  if  by  any  means  you  could  (which  you  cannot !) 
exclude  the  Fourth  Estate,  and  indicate  decisively 
that  Wise  advice  was  the  thing  wanted  here,  and  Par- 
liamentary Eloquence  was  not  the  thing  wanted  any- 
where just  now,  —  there  might  really  some  light  of 
experience  and  human  foresight,  and  a  truly  valuable 
benefit,  be  found  for  you  in  such  assemblies. 

And  there  is  one  thing,  too  apt  to  be  forgotten, 
which  it  much  behoves  us  to  remember:  In  the  Col- 
onies, as  everywhere  else  in  this  world,  the  vital  point 
is  not  who  decides,  but  what  is  decided  on  !  That 
measures  tending  really  to  the  best  advantage  tem- 
poral and  spiritual  of  the  Colony  be  adopted,  and 
strenuously  put  in  execution  ;  there  lies  the  grand 
interest  of  every  good  citizen  British  and  Colonial. 
Such  measures,  whosoever  have  originated  and  pre- 
scribed them,  will  gradually  be  sanctioned  by  all  men 
and  gods ;  and  clamors  of  every  kind  in  reference  to 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  1C7 

tliem  may  safely  to  a  great  extent  be  neglected,  as 
clamorous  merely,  and  sure  to  be  transient.  Colonial 
Governor,  Colonial  Parliament,  whoever  or  whatever 
does  an  injustice,  or  resolves  on  an  ?»nvisdom,  he  is 
the  pernicious  object,  however  parliamentary  he  be! 

I  have  known  things  done,  in  this  or  the  other  Col- 
ony, in  the  most  parliamentary  way  before  now,  which 
carried  written  on   the  brow  of  them  sad  symptoms 
of  eternal  reprobation  ;  not  to  be  mistaken,  had  you 
painted  an  inch   thick.     In   Montreal,  for  example,  at 
this  moment,  standing  amid    the  ruins  of  the  "  Elgin 
Marbles''  (as  they  call  the  burnt  walls  of  the  Parlia- 
ment House  there),  what  rational  British  soul  but  is 
forced    to    institute    the    mournfullest   constitutional 
reflections?     Some  years  ago  the  Canadas,  probably 
not  without  materials  for  discontent,  and  blown  upon 
by  skilful  artists,  blazed  up  into  crackling  of  musketry, 
open  flame  of  rebellion  ;  a  thing  smacking  of  the  gal- 
lows in  all  countries  that  pretend  to  have  any  "Gov- 
ernment."    Which  flame  of  rebellion,  had  there  been 
no  loyal  population  to  fling  themselves  upon  it  at  peril 
of  their  life,  might  have  ended  we   know  not  how. 
It  ended  speedily,  in  the  good  way  ;  Canada  got  a 
Godfrey's-cordial  Constitution  ;  and  for  the  moment 
all  was  varnished  into  some  kind  of  feasibility  again. 
A  most  poor  feasibility ;  momentary,  not  lasting,  nor 
like  to  be  of  profit  to  Canada!     For  this  year,  the 
Canadian  most  constitutional  Parliament,  such  a  con- 
geries of  persons  as  one  can  imagine,  decides  that  the 
aforesaid  flame  of  rebellion  shall  not   only  be  forgot- 
ten as  per  bargain,  but  that  —  the  loyal   population, 
who  flung  their  lives  upon  it  and  quenched  it  in  the 
17* 


198  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

nick  of  time,  shall  pay  the  rebels  (heir  damages !  Of 
this,  I  believe,  on  sadly  conclusive  evidence,  there  is 
no  doubt  whatever.  Such,  when  you  wash  off  the 
constitutional  pigments,  is  the  Death's-head  that  dis- 
closes itself.  I  can  only  say,  if  all  the  Parliaments 
in  the  world  were  to  vole  that  such  a  thing  was  just, 
I  should  feel  painfully  constrained  to  answer,  at  my 
peril,  "No,  by  the  Eternal,  never !  "  And  I  would 
recommend  any  British  Governor  who  might  come 
across  that  Business,  there  or  here,  to  overhaul  it 
again.  What  the  meaning  of  a  Governor,  if  he  is  not 
to  overhaul  and  control  such  things,  may  be,  I  cannot 
conjecture.  A  Canadian  Lumber-log  may  as  well  be 
made  Governor.  He  might  have  some  cast-metal 
hand  or  shoulder-crank  (a  thing  easily  contrivable  in 
Birmingham)  for  signing  his  name  to  Acts  of  the 
Colonial  Parliament ;  he  would  be  a  ''  native  of  the 
country  "  too,  with  popularity  on  that  score  if  on  no 
other  ;  —  he  is  your  man,  if  you  really  want  a  Log 
Governor ! 

I  perceive,  therefore,  that,  besides  choosing  Parlia- 
ments never  so  well,  the  New  Colonial  Office  will 
have  another  thing  to  do :  Contrive  to  send  out  a 
new  kind  of  Governors  to  the  Colonies.  This  will 
be  the  mainspring  of  the  business  ;  without  this  the 
business  will  not  go  at  all.  An  experienced,  wise 
and  valiant  British  man,  to  represent  the  Imperial 
Interest;  he,  with  such  a  speaking  or  silent  Collective 
Wisdom  as  he  can  gather  round  him  in  the  Colony, 
will  evidently  be  the  condition  of  all  good  between 
the  Mother  Country  and  it.     If  you  can  find  such  a 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


199 


man  voiu*  point  is  gained  ;  if  you  cannot,  lost.  By 
him  and  his  Collective  Wisdom  all  manner  of  true 
relations,  mutual  interests  and  duties  such  as  they  ao 
exist  in  fact  between  Mother  Country  and  Colony, 
can  be  gradually  developed  into  practical  methods 
and  results  ;  and  all  manner  of  true  and  noble  suc- 
cesses, and  veracities  in  the  way  of  governing,  be 
won.  Choose  well  your  Governor  ;  —  not  from  this 
or  that  poor  section  of  the  Aristocracy,  military,  naval 
or  redtapist  :  wherever  there  are  born  kings  of  men, 
you  had  better  seek  them  out,  and  breed  them  to  this 
work.  All  sections  of  the  British  Population  will  be 
open  to  you ;  and,  on  the  whole,  you  must  succeed 
in  finding  a  man  Jit.  And  having  found  him,  I  would 
farther  recommend  you  to  keep  him  some  time  !  It 
would  be  a  great  improvement  to  end  this  present 
nomadism  of  Colonial  Governors.  Give  your  Gov- 
ernor due  power  ;  and  let  him  know  withal  that  he 
is  wedded  to  his  enterprise,  and  having  once  well 
learned  it,  shall  continue  with  it  ;  that  it  is  not  a 
Canadian  Lumber-log  you  want  there,  to  tumble 
upon  the  vortexes  and  sign  its  name  by  a  Birming- 
ham shoulder-crank,  but  a  Governor  of  men  ;  who, 
you  mean,  shall  fairly  gird  himself  to  his  enterprise, 
and  fail  with  it  and  conquer  with  it,  and  as  it  were 
live  and  die  with  it:  he  will  have  much  to  learn; 
and  having  once  learned  it,  will  stay,  and  turn  his 
knowledge  to  account. 

From  this  kind  of  Governor,  were  you  once  in  the 
way  of  finding  him  with  moderate  certainty,  from 
him  and  his  Collective  Wisdom,  all  good  whatsoever 
might  be  anticipated.     And  surely,  were  the  Colonies 


200 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


once  enfranchised  from  redtape,  and  the  poor  Mother 
Country  once  enfranchised  from  it ;  were  our  idle  Sev- 
enty-fours all  busy  carrying-out  streams  of  British  In- 
dustrials, and  those  Scoundrel  Regiments  all  working, 
under  divine  drill-serjeants,  at  the  grand  Atlantic  and 
Pacific  Junction  Railway,  —  poor  Britain  and  her 
poor  Colonies  might  find  that  they  luid  true  relations 
to  each  other  ;  that  the  Imperial  Mother  and  her  con- 
stitutionally obedient  Daughters  was  not  a  -redtapc 
fiction,  provoking  bitter  mockery  as  at  present,  but  a 
blessed  God's-Fact  destined  to  fill  half  the  world 
with  its  fruits  one  day  ! 


But  undoubtedly  our  grand  primary  concern  is  the 
Home  Oflice,  and  its  Irish  Giant  named  of  Despair. 
When  the  Home  Office  begins  dealing  with  this  Irish 
Giant,  which  it  is  vitally  urgent  for  us  the  Home 
Office  should  straightway  do,  it  will  find  its  duties 
enlarged  to  a  most  unexpected  extent,  and,  as  it  were, 
altered  from  top  to  bottom.  A  changed  time  now 
when  the  question  is.  What  to  do  with  three  njillions 
of  paupers  (come  upon  you  for  food,  since  you  have 
no  work  for  them)  increasing  at,  a  frightful  rate  per 
day?  Home  Office,  Parliament,  King,  Constitution, 
will  find  that  they  have  now,  if  they  will  continue 
in  this  world  long,  got  a  quite  immense  new  ques- 
tion, and  continually  recurring  set  of  questions. 
That  huge  question  of  the  Irish  Giant,  with  his 
Scotch  and  English  Giant-Progeny  advancing  open- 
mouthed  upon  us,  will,  as  I  calculate,  change  from 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STPvEET.  201 

top  to  bottom  not  the  Home  Office  only,  but  all  man- 
ner of  Offices  and  Institutions  whatsoever,  and  grad- 
ually the  structure  of  Society  itself.  I  perceive,  it 
Avill  make  us  a  new  Society,  if  we  are  to  continue  a 
Society  at  all.  For  the  alternative  is  not,  Stay  where 
we  are,  or  Change  ?  But  Change,  with  new  wise 
effort  fit  for  the  new  time,  to  true  and  wider  nobler 
National  Life  ;  or  Change,  by  indolent  folding  of  the 
arms,  as  we  are  now  doing,  in  horrible  anarchies  and 
convulsions  to  Dissolution,  to  National  Death,  or  Sus- 
pended-animation ?  Suspended-animation  itself  is  a 
frightful  possibility  for  Britain  :  this  Anarchy  whithe.r 
all  Europe  has  preceded  us,  where  all  Europe  is  now 
weltering,  would  suit  us  as  ill  as  any  !  The  question 
for  the  British  Nation  is  :  Can  we  work  our  course 
pacifically,  on  firm  land,  into  the  New  Era  ;  or  must 
it  be,  for  us  too,  as  for  all  the  others,  through  black 
abysses  of  Anarchy,  hardly  escaping,  if  we  do  with 
all  our  struggles  escape,  the  jaws  of  eternal  Death  ? 

For  Pauperism,  though  it  now  absorbs  its  high 
figure  of  millions  annually,  is  by  no  means  a  ques- 
tion of  money  only,  but  of  infinitely  higher  and 
greater  than  all  conceivable  money.  If  our  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer  had  a  Fortunatus'  purse,  and 
miraculous  sacks  of  Indian  meal  that  would  stand 
scooping  from  forever,  — I  say,  even  on  these  terms 
Pauperism  could  not  be  endured  ;  and  it  would  vitally 
concern  all  British  Citizens  to  abate  Pauperism,  and 
never  rest  till  they  had  ended  it  again.  Pauperism 
is  the  general  leakage  through  every  joint  of  the  ship 
that  is  rotten.  Were  all  men  doing  their  duty,  or 
even  seriously  trying  to  do  it,  there  would   be  no 


202 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


Pauper.  Were  the  pretended  Captains  of  the  world 
at  all  in  the  hahit  of  connnanding  ;  were  llie  pre- 
tended Teachers  of  the  world  at  all  in  the  habit  of 
teaching,  —  of  admonishing  said  Captains  among 
others,  and  with  sacred  zeal  apprising  them  to  what 
place  such  neglect  was  leading,  —  how  could  Pauper- 
ism exist  ?  Pauperism  would  lie  far  over  the  horizon  ; 
wo  should  be  lamenting  and  denouncing  quite  infe- 
rior sins  of  men,  which  were  only  tending  afar  off 
towards  Pauperism.  A  true  Captaincy  ;  a  true 
Teachership,  either  making  all  men  and  Captains 
know  and  devoutly  recognize  the  eternal  law  of 
things,  or  else  breaking  its  own  heart,  ai]d  going 
about  with  sackcloth  round  its  loins,  in  testimony  of 
continual  sorrow  and  protest,  and  prophecy  of  God's 
vengeance  upon  such  a  course  of  things  :  either  of 
these  divine  equipments  would  have  saved  us ;  and 
it  is  because  we  have  neither  of  them  that  we  are 
come  to  such  a  pass  ! 

We  may  depend  upon  it,  where  there  is  a  Pauper, 
there  is  a  sin ;  to  make  one  Pauper  there  go  many 
sins.  Pauperism,  is  our  Social  Sin  grown  manifest  j 
developed  frdm  the  siate  of  a  spiritual  ignobleness,  a 
practical  impropriety  and  base  oblivion  of  duty,  to  an 
afiair  of  the  ledger.  Here  is  not  now  an  unheeded 
sin  against  God  ;  here  is  a  concrete  ugly  hulk  of 
Beggary  demanding  that  you  should  buy  Indian 
meal  for  it.  Men  of  reflection  have  long  looked  with 
a  horror  for  which  there  was  no  response  in  the  idle 
public,  upon  Pauperism  ;  but  the  quantity  of  meal  it 
demands  has  now  awalcened  men  of  no  reflection  to 
consider   it.      Pauperism    is   the    poisonous  dripping 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STKEET.  S03 

from  all  the  sins,  and  putrid  uiiveracities  and  godfor- 
getting  greedinesses  and  devil-serving  cants  and  Jes- 
uitisms, that  exist  among  us.  Not  one  idle  Sham 
lounging  about  Creation  upon  false  pretences,  upon 
means  which  he  has  not  earned,  upon  theories  wliich 
he  does  not  practise,  but  yields  his  share  of  Pauper- 
ism somewhere  or  other.  His  sham-work  oozes 
down  ;  finds  at  last  its  issue  as  human  Pauperism,  — 
in  a  human  being  that  by  those  false  pretences  can- 
not live.  The  Idle  Workhouse,  now  about  to  burst 
of  overfilling,  Avhat  is  it  but  the  scandalous  poison- 
tank  of  drainage  from  the  universal  Siygian  quag- 
mire of  our  affairs  ?  Workliouse  Paupers;  immortal 
sons  of  Adam  rotted  into  that  scandalous  condition, 
subter-slavish,  demanding  that  you  would  make 
slaves  of  them  as  an  unattainable  blessing  !  My 
friends,  I  perceive  the  quagmire  must  be  drained,  or 
we  caimot  live.  And  farther,  I  perceive,  this  of 
Pauperism  is  the  corner  where  we  must  begin,  — the 
levels  all  pointing  thitherward,  the  possibilities  lying 
all  clearly  there.  On  that  Problem  we  shall  find 
that  innumerable  things,  that  all  things  whatsoever 
hang.  By  courageous  steadfast  persistance  in  that,  I 
can  forsee  Society  itself  regenerated.  la  the  course 
of  long  strenuous  centuries,  I  can  see  the  State 
hecpme  what  it  is  actually  bound  to  be,  the  keystone 
of  a  most  real^"  Organization  of  Labor,*' — and  on 
this  Earth  a  world  of  some  veracity,  and  some  hero- 
ism, once  more  worth  living  in  !\ 


The  State  in  all  European  countries,  and  in  Eng- 
land first  of  all,  as    J   hope,    will  discover   that  its 

r 


204  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

functions  are  now,  and  have  long  been,  very  wide  of 
what  the  State  in  old  Pedant  Downing  Streets  has 
aimed  at ;  that  the  State  is,  for  the  present,  not  a 
reality,  but  in  great  part  a  dramatic  speciosity,  ex- 
pending its  strength  in  practices  and  objects  fallen, 
many  of  them  quite  obsolete  ;  that  it  must  come  a 
little  nearer  the  true  aim  again,  or  it  cannot  continue 
in  this  world.  The  "  Champion  of  England,"  cased 
in  iron  or  tin,  and  ''able  to  mount  his  horse  with  lit- 
tle assistance,"  —  this  Champion  and  the  thousand- 
fold cousinry  of  Phantasms  he  has,  nearly  all  dead 
now  but  still  walking  as  ghosts,  must  positively  take 
himself  away  :  who  can  endure  him,  and  his  solemn 
trumpetings  and  obsolete  gesticulations,  in  a  Time 
thav,  is  full  of  deadly  realities,  coming  openmouthed 
ripon  us?  At  Drury  Lane  let  him  play  his  part,  him 
and  his  thousandfold  cousinry  ;  and  welcome,  so 
long  as  any  public  will  pay  a  shilling  to  see  him  : 
but  on  the  solid  earth,  under  the  extremely  earnest 
stars,  we  dare  not  palter  wnth  him,  or  accept  his  tom- 
fooleries any  more.  Ridiculous  they  seem  to  some  ; 
horrible  they  seem  to  me  :  all  lies,  if  one  look 
whence  they  come  and  whither  they  go,  are  horrible. 
Alas,  it  will  be  found,  I  doubt,  that  in  England 
more  than  in  any  country,  our  Public  Life  and  our 
Private,  om'  State  and  our  Religion,  and  all  that  we 
do  and  speak  (and  the  most  even  of  what  we  thin/c) 
is  a  tissue  of  half-truths  and  whole-lies  ;  of  hypocri- 
sies, conventionalisms,  wornout  traditionary  rags  and 
cobwebs;  such  a  life-garment  of  beggarly  incredible 
and  uncredited  falsities  as  no  honest  souls  of  Adam's 
Posterity  were  ever  enveloped  in  before.     And  we 


THE    n£w    downing    STREET.  205 

walk  about  in  it  with  a  stately  gesture,  as  if  it  were 
some  priestly  stole  or  imperial  mantle;  not  the  foul- 
est beggar's  gabardine  that  ever  was.  ''  No  English- 
man dare  believe  the  truth,"  says  one  ;  "  he  stands, 
for  these  two  hundred  years,  enveloped  in  lies  of 
every  kind  ;  from  nadir  to  zenith  an  ocean  of  tradi- 
tionary cant  surrounds  him  as  his  life-element.  He 
really  thinks  the  truth  dangerous.  Poor  wretch,  you 
see  him  everywhere  endeavoring  to  temper  the  truth 
by  taking  the  falsity  along  with  it,  and  welding  them 
together ;  this  he  calls  '  safe  course,'  '  moderate 
course,'  and  other  fine  names  ;  there,  balanced  be- 
tween God  and  the  Devil,  he  thinks  he  can  serve  two 
masters,  and  that  things  will  go  well  with  him." 

In  the  cottonspinning  and  similar  departments  our 
English  friend  knows  well  that  truth  or  God  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Devil  or  falsehood,  but 
will  ravel  all  the  web  to  pieces  if  you  introduce  the 
Devil  or  Nonveracity  in  any  form  into  it:  in  this 
department,  therefore,  our  English  friend  avoids  false- 
hood. But  in  the  religious,  political,  social,  moral, 
and  all  other  spiritual  departments  he  freely  intro- 
duces falsehood,  nothing  doubting  ;  and  has  long 
done  so,  with  a  profuseness  not  elsewhere  met  with 
in  the  world.  The  unhappy  creature,  does  he  not 
know  then  that  every  lie  is  accursed,  and  the  parent 
of  mere  curses  ?  That  he  must  think  the  truth  ; 
much  more  speak  it !  That,  above  all  things,  by  the 
oldest  law  of  Heaven  and  Earth  which  no  man  vio- 
lates with  impunity,  he  must  not  and  shall  not  wag 
the  tongue  of  him  except  to  utter  his  thought  ? 
That  there  is  not  a  grin  or  beautiful  acceptable 
18 


206  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

grimace  he  can  execute  upon  his  poor  countenance, 
but  is  either  an  express  veracity,  the  image  of  v/hat 
passes  within  him  ;  or  else  is  a  bit  of  Devil-worship 
which  lie  and  the  rest  of  us  will  have  to  pay  for  yet? 
Alas,  the  grins  he  executes  upon  liis  poor  mind  (which 
is  all  tortured  into  St.  Vitus  dances,  and  ghastly  mer- 
ry-andrewisnis,  by  the  practice)  are  the  most  extraor- 
dinary this  sun  ever  saw. 

We  have  Puseyisms,  black-and-white  surplice  con- 
troversies : —  do  not,  officially  and  otherwise,  the 
select  of  the  longest  heads  in  England  sit  with 
intense  application  and  iron  gravity,  in  open  forum, 
judging  of  "  prevenient  grace  ?  "  Not  a  head  of 
them  suspects  that  it  can  be  improper  so  to  sit,  or  of 
the  nature  of  treason  against  the  Power  who  gave  an 
Intellect  to  man; — that  it  can  be  other  than  the 
duty  of  a  good  citizen  to  use  his  god-given  intellect 
in  investigating  prevenient  grace,  supervenient  moon- 
shine, or  the  color  of  the  Bishop's  nightmare,  if  that 
happened  to  turn  up.  I  consider  them  far  ahead  of 
Cicero's  Roman  Augurs  with  their  chicken-bowels  : 
"  Behold  these  divine  chicken-bowels,  O  Senate  and 
Roman  People  ;  the  midriff  has  fallen  eastward !  '^ 
solemnly  intimates  one  Augur.  "By  Proserpina 
and  the  triple  Hecate,"  exclaims  the  other,  '•  I  say 
the  midriff  has  fallen  to  the  west  !  "  And  they  look 
at  one  another  with  the  seriousness  of  men  prepared 
to  die  in  their  opinion,  —  the  authentic  seriousness 
of  men  betting  at  Tattersall's,  or  about  to  receive 
judgment  in  Chancery.  There  is  in  the  English- 
man something  great,  beyond  all  Roman  greatness,  in 
whatever  line  you  meet  him ;  even  as  a  Latter-Day 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  207 

Angur  he  seeks  his  fellow  !  — Poor  devil,  I  believe  it 
is  his  intense  love  of  peace,  and  hatred  of  breeding 
discussions  which  lead  nowhither,  that  has  led  him 
into  this  sad  practice  of  amalgamating  true  and  false. 
He  has  been  at  it  these  two  hmidred  years  ;  and 
has  now  carried  it  to  a  terrible  lengtli.  He  couldn't 
follow  Oliver  Cromwell  in  the  Puritan  path  heaven- 
ward, so  steep  was  it,  and  beset  with  thorns, — and 
becoming  uncertain  withal.  He  much  preferred,  at 
that  juncture,  to  go  heavenward  with  his  Charles  Sec- 
ond and  merry  Nell  Gwynues,  and  old  decent  formu- 
laries and  good  respectable  aristocratic  company,  for 
escort  ;  sore  he  tried,  by  glorious  restorations,  glori- 
ous revolutions,  and  so  forth,  to  perfect  this  desirable 
amalgam;  hoped  always  it  might  be  possible; — is 
only  just  now,  if  even  now,  beginning  to  give  up  the 
hope ;  and  to  see  with  wide-eyed  horror  that  it  is  not 
at  Heaven  he  is  arriving,  but  at  the  Stygian  marshes, 
with  their  thirty  thousand  Needlewomen,  cannibal 
Connaughts,  rivers  of  lamentation,  continual  wail  of 
infants,  and  the  yellow-burning  gleam  of  a  Hell-on- 
Earth  !  —  Bull,  my  friend,  you  must  strip  that  aston- 
ishing pontiff-stole,  imperial  mantle,  or  whatever  you 
imagine  it  to  be,  which  I  discern  to  be  a  garment  of 
curses,  and  poisoned  Nessus'-shirt  now  at  last  about 
to  take  fire  upon  you ;  you  must  strip  that  off  your 
poor  body,  my  friend  ;  and,  were  it  only  in  a  soul's 
suit  of  Utilitarian  buff,  and  such  belief  as  that  a  big 
•loaf  is  better  than  a  small  one,  come  forth  into  con- 
tact with  your  world,  under  true  professions  again, 
and  not  false.  You  wretched'  man,  you  ought  to 
weep  for  half  a  century  on  discovering  what  lies  you 


208  THE    NEW    DOAVNING    STREET, 

have  believed,  and  what  every  lie  leads  to  and  pro- 
ceeds from.  O  my  friend,  no  honest  fellow  in  this 
Planet  was  ever  so  served  by  his  cooks  before  ;  or  has 
eaten  such  quantities  and  qualities  of  dirt  as  you  have 
been  made  to  do,  for  these  two  centuries  past.  Arise, 
my  horribly  maltreated  yet  still  beloved  Bull ;  steep 
yourself  in  running  water  for  a  long  while,  my  friend  ; 
and  begin  forthwith  in  every  conceivable  direction, 
physical  and  spiritual,  the  long-expected  Scavenger 
Age. 

Many  doctors  have  you  had,  my  poor  friend  ;  but 
I  perceive  it  is  the  Water-Cure  alone  that  will  help 
you:  a  complete  course  of  scavengerism  \s  \\\q  thing 
you  need!  A  new  and  veritable  heart-divorce  of 
England  from  the  Babylonish  woman,  who  is  Jesuit- 
ism and  Unveracity,  and  dwells  not  at  Rome  now, 
but  under  your  own  nose  and  everywhere  ;  whom, 
and  her  foul  worship  of  Phantasms  and  Devils,  poor 
England  Jiad  once  divorced,  with  a  divine  heroism 
not  forgotten  yet,  and  well  worth  remembering  now  : 
a  clearing  out  of  Church  and  State  from  the  unblessed 
host  of  Phantasms  AMhich  have  too  long  nestled  thick 
there,  under  those  astonishing  "  Defenders  of  the 
Faith,"  —  Defenders  of  the  Hypocrisies,  the  spiritual 
Vampyres  and  obscene  Nightmares,  under  which 
England  lies  in  syncope  :  —  this  is  what  you  need  ; 
and  if  you  cannot  get  it  you  must  die,  my  poor 
friend  ! 

Like  people,  like  priest.  Priest,  King,  Home  Of- 
fice, all  manner  of  establishments  and  offices  among 
a  people  bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  people 
itself.     It  is  because  Bull  has  been  eating  so  much 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  209 

dirt  that  his  Home  Offices  have  got  into  such  a 
shockingly  dirty  condition,  —  the  old  pavements  of 
them  quite  gone  out  of  sight  and  out  of  memory, 
and  nothing  hut  mountains  of  long-accumulated  dung 
in  which  the  poor  cattle  are  spr-awling  and  tumbling. 
Had  his  own  life  been  pure,  had  his  own  daily  con- 
duct been  grounding  itself  on  the  clear  pa\oments  or 
actual  beliefs  and  veracities,  would  he  have  let  his 
Horne  Offices  come  to  such  a  pass  ?  Not  in  Downing 
Street  only,  but  in  all  other  thoroughfares  and  arenas 
and  spiritual  or  physical  departments  of  his  existence, 
running  water  and  Herculean  scavengerism  have  be- 
come indispensable,  unless  the  poor  man  is  to  choke 
in  his  own  exuvias,  and  die  the  sorrowfuUest  death. 

If  the  State  could  once  get  back  to  the  real  sight 
of  its  essential  function,  and  with  religious  resolution 
begin  doing  that,  and  putting  away  its  multifarious 
imaginary  functions,  and  indignantly  casting  out  these 
as  mere  dung  and  insalubrious  horror  and  abomina- 
tion, (which  they  are.)  what  a  promise  of  reform 
were  there  !  The  British  Home  Office,  surely  this 
and  its  kindred  Offices  exist,  if  they  will  think  of  it, 
that  life  and  work  may  continue  possible,  and  may 
not  become  impossible,  for  British  men.  If  honora- 
ble existence,  or  existence  on  human  terms  at  all, 
have  become  impossible  for  millions  of  British  men, 
how  can  the  Home  Office  or  any  other  Office  long 
exist  ?  With  Thirty  thousand  Needlewomen,  a  Con- 
naught  fallen  into  potential  cannibalism,  and  the  Idle 
Workhouse  every  where  bursting,  and  declaring  it- 
self an  i/ihumanity  and  stupid  ruinous  brutality  not 
18* 


210  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

much  longer  to  be   tolerated  among   rational  human 
creatures,  it  is  time  the  State  were  bethinking  itself. 

So  soon  as  the  State  attacks  that  tremendous  cloaca 
of  Pauperism,  which  will  choke  the  world  if  it  be 
not  attacked,  the  State  will  find  its  real  functions 
very  different  indeed  from  what  it  had  long  supposed 
them  !  The  State  is  a  reality  and  not  a  dramaturgy  ; 
it  exists  here  to  render  existence  possible,  existence 
desirable  and  noble,  for  the  State's  subjects.  The 
State,  as  it  gets  into  the  track  of  its  real  work,  will 
find  that  same  expand  into  whole  continents  of  new 
unexpected,  most  blessed  activity ;  as  its  dramatic 
functions,  declared  superfluous,  more  and  more  fall 
inert,  and  go  rushing  like  huge  torrents  of  extinct 
exuviae,  dung  and  rubbish,  down  to  the  Abyss  for- 
ever. O  Heaven,  to  see  a  State  that  knew  a  little 
why  it  was  there,  and  on  what  ground,  in  this  Year 
1850,  it  could  pretend  to  exist,  in  so  extremely  earnest 
a  world  as  ours  is  growing  !  The  British  State,  if  it 
will  be  the  crown  and  keystone  of  our  British  Social 
Existence,  must  get  to  recognize,  with  a  veracity 
very  long  unknown  to  it,  what  the  real  objects  and 
indispensable  necessities  of  our  Social  Existence  are. 
Good  Heavens,  it  is  not  prevenient  grace,  or  the  color 
of  the  Bishop's  nightmare,  that  is  pinching  us  ;  it  is 
the  impossibility  to  get  along  any  farther  for  moun- 
tains of  accumulated  dung  and  falsity  and  horror  ; 
the  total  closing  up  of  noble  aims  from  every  man,  — 
of  any  aim  at  all,  from  many  men,  except  that  of 
rotting  out  in  Idle  Workhouses  an  existence  below 
that  of  beasts  ! 

Suppose  the  State  to  have  fairly  started  its  "  In- 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  211 

dustiial  Rejriments  of  the  New  Era,"  which,  alas,  are 
yet  only  beginning  to  bs  tallxed  of,  —  what  conti- 
nents of  new  real  work  opened  out,  for  the  Home  and 
all  other  Public  Oflices  among  us!  Suppose  the  Home 
Oflice  looking  out,  as  for  life  and  salvation,  for  proper 
men  to  command  these  "  Regiments."  Suppose  the 
announcement  were  practically  made  to  all  British 
souls  that  the  want  of  wants,  more  indispensable  than 
any  jewel  in  the  crown,  was  that  of  men  able  to  com- 
7nand  men  in  ways  of  industrial  and  moral  well-do- 
ing ;  that  the  State  would  give  its  very  life  for  such 
men  ;  that  such  men  were  the  State  ;  that  the  quan- 
tity of  them  to  be  found  in  England,  lamentably 
small  at  present,  was  the  exact  measure  of  England's 
worth,  —  what  a  new  dawn  of  everlasting  day  for 
all  British  souls!  Noble  British  soul,  to  whom  the 
gods  have  given  faculty  and  heroism,  what  men  call 
genius,  here  at  last  is  a  career  for  thee.  It  will  not 
be  needful  now  to  swear  fealty  to  the  Incredible,  and 
traitorously  cramp  thyself  into  a  cowardly  canting 
play-actor  in  God's  Universe  ;  or,  solemnly  forswearing 
that,  into  a  mutinous  rebel  and  waste  bandit  in  thy 
generation  :  here  is  an  aim  that  is  clear  and  credible, 
a  course  fit  for  a  man.  No  need  to  become  a  tor- 
menting and  self-tormenting  mutineer,  banded  with 
rebellious  souls,  if  thou  >vouldst  live  ;  no  need  to  rot 
in  suicidal  idleness  ;  or  take  to  platform  preaching,  and 
writing  in  Radical  Newspapers,  to  pull  asunder  the 
great  Falsity  in  which  thou  and  all  of  us  are  chok- 
ing. The  great  Falsity,  behold  it  has  become,  in  the 
very  heart  of  it,  a  great  Truth  of  Truths;  and  in- 
vites thee  and  all  brave  men  to  cooperate  with  it  in 


212  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

transforming  all  the  body  and  the  joints  into  the 
noble  likeness  of  that  heart  !  Thrice-blessed  change. 
The  State  aims,  once  more,  with  a  true  aim  ;  and 
has  loadstars  in  the  eternal  Heaven.  Struggle  faith- 
fully for  it;  noble  is  tJiis  struggle  ;  thou,  too,  accord- 
ing to  thy  faculty,  shalt  reap  in  due  time,  if  thou 
faint  not.  Thou  shalt  have  a  wise  command  of  men, 
thou  shalt  be  wisely  commanded  by  men,  —  the 
summary  of  all  blessedness  for  a  social  creature  here 
below.  The  sore  struggle,  never  to  be  relaxed,  and 
not  forgiven  to  any  son  of  man,  is  once  more  a  noble 
one ;  glory  to  the  Highest,  it  is  now  once  more  a 
true  and  noble  one,  wherein  a  man  can  afford  to  die  ! 
Our  path  is  now  again  Heavenward.  Forward,  with 
steady  pace,  with  drawn  weapons,  and  unconquer- 
able hearts,  in  the  name  of  God  that  made  us  all  !  — 

Wise  obedience  and  wise  command,  I  foresee  that 
the  regimenting  of  Pauper  Banditti  into  Soldiers  of 
Industry,  is  but  the  beginning  of  this  blessed  process, 
which  will  extend  to  the  topmost  heights  of  our 
Society  ;  and,  in  the  course  of  generations,  make  us 
all  once  more  a  Governed  Commonwealth,  and  Civ- 
itas  Dei,  if  it  please  God  !  Waste-land  Industrials 
succeeding,  other  kinds  of  Industry,  as  Cloth-making, 
shoe-making,  plough-making,  spade-making,  house- 
building, —  in  the  end.  all  kinds  of  Industry  whatso- 
ever, will  be  found  capable  of  regimenting.  Mill- 
operatives,  all  manner  of  free  operatives,  as  yet  unreg- 
imented,  nomadic  under  private  masters,  they,  seeing 
such  example  and  its  blessedness,  will  say :  '•'  Masters, 
you  must  regiment  us  a  little  ;   make  our  interests 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  213 

with  you  permanent  a  little,  instead  of  temporary 
and  nomadic  ;  we  will  enlist  with  the  State  other- 
wise !  "  This  will  go  on,  on  the  one  hand,  while 
the  State-operation  goes  on,  on  the  other :  thus 
will  all  Masters  of  Workmen,  private  Captains  of  In- 
dustry, be  forced  to  incessantly  cooperate  with  the 
State  and  its  public  Captains  ;  they  regimenting  in 
their  way,  the  State  in  its  way,  with  ever-widening 
field  ;  till  their  fields  meet  (so  to  speak)  and  coalesce, 
and  there  be  no  unregimented  worker,  or  such  only 
as  are  fit  to  remain  unregimented,  any  more. —  O,  my 
friends,  I  clearly  perceive  this  horrible  cloaca  of  Pau- 
perism, wearing  nearly  bottomless  now,  is  the  point 
where  we  must  begin.  Here,  in  this  plainly  unen- 
durable portion  of  the  general  quagmire,  the  lowest 
point  of  all,  and  hateftil  even  to  M'Crowdy,  must  our 
main  drain  begin  :  steadily  prosecuting  that,  tearing 
that  along  with  Herculean  labor  and  divine  fidelity, 
we  shall  gradually  drain  the  entire  Stygian  Swamp, 
and  make  it  all  once  more  a  fruitful  field. 

For  the  State,  I  perceive  looking  out  with  right 
sacred  earnestness  for  persons  able  to  command,  will 
straightway  also  come  upon  the  question  :  "  What 
kind  of  schools  aifd  seminaries,  and  teaching  and  also 
preaching  establishments  have  I  for  the  training  of 
youn'g  souls  to  take  command  and  to  yield  obedience  ? 
Wisfe  command,  wise  obedience  :  the  capability  of 
these  two  is  the  net  measure  of  culture,  and  human 
virtue,  in  every  man  ;  all  good  lies  in  the  possession 
of  these  two  capabilities  ;  all  evil,  wretchedness,  and 
ill-success  in  the  want  of  these.  He  is  a  good  man 
ihat  can  command  and  obey  ;  he   that  cannot  is  a 


214  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 

bad.  If  my  teachers  and  my  preachers,  with  their 
seminaries,  liigh  schools,  and  cathedrals,  do  train 
men  to  these  gifts,  the  thing  they  are  teaching  and 
preaching  mast  be  true  ;  if  they  do  not,  not  true  !  " 

The  State,  once  brought  to  its  veracities  by  the 
thumbscrew  in  this  manner,  what  loill  it  think  of 
these  same  seminaries  and  cathedrals!  I  foresee  that 
our  Etons  and  Oxfords  with  their  nonsense-verses, 
college-logics,  and  broken  crumbs  of  mere  speech^  — 
which  is  not  even  English  or  Teutonic  speech,  but 
old  Grecian  and  Italian  speech,  dead  and  buried  and 
much  lying  ont  of  our  way  these  two  thousand  years 
last  past, — will  be  found  a  most  astonishing  semi- 
nary for  the  training  of  young  English  souls  to  lake 
command  in  human  Industries,  and  act  a  valiant  part 
under  the  sun  !  The  State  dogs  not  want  vocables, 
but  manly  wisdoms  and  virtues :  the  State,  does  it 
want  parliamentary  orators,  first  of  all,  and  men 
capable  of  writing  books  ?  What  a  ragfair  of  extinct 
monkeries,  high-piled  here  in  the  very  shrine  of  our 
existence,  fit  to  smite  the  generations  with  atrophy 
and  beggarly  paralysis,  —  as  we  see  it  do!  The 
Minister  of  Education  will  not  want  for  work,  I  think 
in  the  New  Downing  Street  ! 

How  it  will  go  with  Souls'-Overseers,  and  what 
the  new  kind  will  be,  we  do  not  prophesy,  just  now. 
Clear  it  is,  however,  that  the  last  finish  of  the  State's 
eftbrts,  in  this  operation  of  regimenting,  will  be  to 
get  the  true  Souls'-Overseers  set  over  men's  souls;  to 
regiment  as  the  consummate  flower  of  all,  and  con- 
stitute into  some  Sacred  Corporation,  bearing  author- 
ity and  dignity  in  their  generation,  the  Chosen  of  the 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  215 

Wise,  of  the  Spiritual,  and  Devoutmindecl,  the  Rev- 
erent who  deserve  reverence,  who  are  as  the  Salt  of 
the  Earth  ;  —  that  not  till  this  is  done  can  the  State 
consider  its  edifice  to  have  reached  the  first  story,  to 
be  safe  for  a  moment,  to  be  other  than  an  arch  with- 
out the  keystones,  and  supported  hitherto  on  mere 
wood.  How  this  will  be  done?  Ask  not;  let  the 
second  or  the  third  generation  after  this  begin  to  ask! 
Alas,  wise  men  do  exist,  born  duly  into  the  world  in 
every  current  generation  ;  but  the  getting  of  iliem 
regimented  is  the  highest  pitch  of  human  Polity,  and 
the  feat  of  all  feats  in  political  engineering  :  — impop.- 
sible  for  us,  in  this  poor  age,  as  the  building  of  St. 
Paul's  would  be  for  Canadian  Beavers,  acquainted 
only  with  the  architecture  of  fish-dams,  and  with  no 
trowel  but  their  tail. 

Literature,  the  strange  entity  so-called,  —  that  in- 
deed is  here.  If  Literature  continue  to  be  the  haven 
of  expatriated  spiritualisms,  and  have  its  Johnsons, 
Goethes,  and  true  Archbishops  of  the  World,  to  show 
for  itself  as  heretofore,  there  may  be  hope  in  Litera- 
ture. If  Literature  dwindle,  as  is  probable,  into  mere 
merry-andrewism.  windy  twaddle,  and  feats  of  spiritual 
legerdemain,  analogous  to  rope-dancing,  opera-dancing, 
and  street-fiddling  with  a  hat  carried  round  for  half- 
pence or  for  guineas,  there  will  be  no  hope  in  Litera- 
ture. What  if  our  next  set  of  Souls'-Overseers  were 
to  be  silent  ones  very  mainly  !  —  Alas,  alas,  why  gaze 
into  the  blessed  continents  and  delectable  mountains 
of  a  Future  based  on  truth,  while  as  yet  we  struggle 
far  down  nigh  suffocated  in  a  slough  of  lies,  unccr- 


216 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET. 


tain    whether   or   how   we   shall    be    able    to  climb 
at  all!  — 

Who  will  begin  the  long  steep  journey  with  us  : 
who  of  living  statesmen  will  snatch  the  standard,  and 
say,  like  a  hero  on  the  forlorn-hope  for  his  country, 
Forward !  Or  is  there  none  ;  no  one  that  can  and 
dare?  And  our  lot  too,  then,  is  Anarchy  by  barricade 
or  ballotbox,  and  Social  Death  ?  —  We  will  not 
think  so. 

Whether  Sir  Robert  Peel  will  undertake  the  Re- 
form of  Downing  Street  for  us,  or  any  Ministry  or 
Reform  farther,  is  not  known.  He,  they  say,  is  get- 
ting old  ;  does  himself  recoil  from  it,  and  shudder  at 
it ;  which  is  possible  enough.  The  clubs  and  coteries 
appear  to  have  settled  that  he  surely  will  not ;  that 
this  melancholy  wriggling  seesaw  of  red  tape  Trojans 
and  Protectionist  Greeks  must  continue  its  course 
till  —  what  can  happen,  my  friends,  if  this  go  on 
continuing  ? 

And  yet,  perhaps,  England  has  by  no  means  so 
settled  it.  Quit  the  clubs  and  coteries,  you  do  not 
hear  two  rational  men  speak  long  together  upon  poli- 
tics, without  pointing  their  inquiries  towards  this  man. 
A  minister  that  will  attack  the  Augis  Stable  of  Down- 
ing Street,  and  begin  producing  a  real  Management, 
no  longer  an  imaginary  one,  of  our  Affairs  ;  he,  or  elsG 
in  ii^w  years  Chartist  Parliament  and  the  Deluge  come: 
that  seems  the  alternative.  As  I  read  the  omens,  there 
was  no  man  in  my  time  more  authentically  called  to 
a  post  of  difficulty,  of  danger,  and  of  honor  than  this 


THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  21 

man.  The  enterprise  is  ready  for  him,  if  he  is  ready 
for  it.  He  has  hut  to  lift  his  finger  in  this  enterprise, 
and  whatsoever  is  wise  and  manful  in  England  will 
rally  round  him.  If  the  faculty  and  heart  for  it  be 
in  him,  he,  strangely  and  almost  tragically  if  we  look 
upon  his  history,  is  to  have  leave  to  try  it  ;  he  now, 
at  the  eleventh  hour,  has  the  opportunity  for  such  a 
feat  in  reform  as  has  not,  in  these  late  generations, 
been  attempted  by  all  our  reformers  put  together. 

As  for  Protectionist  jargon,  who  in  these  earnest 
days  would  occupy  many  moments  of  his  time  with 
that  ?  "A  Costermonger  in  this  street,"  says  Crabbe, 
"  finding  lately  that  his  rope  of  onions,  which  he  hoped 
would  have  brought  a  shilling,  was  to  go  for  only 
sevenpence  heiiceforth,  burst  forth  into  lamentation, 
execration,  and  the  most  pathetic  tears.  Throwing 
up  the  window,  I  perceived  the  other  costermongers 
preparing  impatiently  to  pack  this  one  out  of  their 
company  as  a  disgrace  to  it,  if  he  would  not  hold 
his  peace  and  take  the  market  rate  for  his  onions. 
I  looked  better  at  this  Costermonger.  To  my  aston- 
ished imagination,  a  star-and-garter  dawned  upon 
the  dim  figure  of  the  man  ;  and  I  perceived  that  here 
was  no  Costermonger  to  be  expelled  with  ignominy, 
but  a  sublime  goddess-born  Ducal  Individual,  whom 
I  forbear  to  name  at  this  moment !  What  an  omen  ; 
—  nay  to  my  astonished  imagination,  there  dawned 
still  fataller  omens.  Surely,  of  all  human  trades  ever 
heard  of,  the  trade  of  Owning  Land  in  England  ought 
not  to  bully  us  for  drinkmoney  just  now  !  —  " 

"  Hansard's  Debates,"  continues  Crabbe  farther  on, 
*'  present  many  inconsistencies  of  speech  j  lamentable 
19 


218  THE    NEW    DOWNING    STREET.  ^ 

unveracities  uttered  in  Parliament,  by  one  and  indeed 
by  all  ;  in  which  sad  list  Sir  Robert  Peel  stands  for 
his  share  among  others.  Unveracities  not  a  few  Avere 
spoken  in  Parliament  ;  in  fact,  to  one  with  a  sense  of 
Avhat  is  called  God's  truth,  it  seemed  all  one  unve- 
racity,  a  talking  from  the  teeth  outward,  not  as  the 
convictions  but  as  the  expediencies  and  inward  as- 
tucities  directed ;  and,  in  the  sense  of  God's  truth,  I 
have  heard  no  true  word  uttered  in  Parliament  at 
all.  Most  lamentable  unveracities  continually  spoken 
in  Parliament, -by  almost  every  one  that  had  to  open 
his  mouth  there.  But  the  largest  veracity  ever  done 
in  Parliament  in  our  time,  as  we  all  know,  was  of 
this  man's  doing  ;  —  and  that,  you  will  find,  is  a  very 
considerable  item  in  the  calculation  !  " 

Yes,  and  I  believe  England  in  her  dumb  way  re- 
members that,  too.  And  "  the  Traitor  Peel  "  can 
very  well  afford  to  let  innumerable  ducal  Costermon- 
gers,  parliamentary  Adventurers,  and  lineal  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Impenitent  Thief,  say  all  their  say 
about  him,  and  do  all  their  do.  With  a  virtual  Eng- 
land at  his  back,  and  an  actual  eternal  sky  above  him, 
there  is  not  much  in  the  total  net  amount  of  that. 
When  the  master  of  the  horse  rides  abroad,  many 
dogs  in  the  village  bark ;  but  he  pursues  his  journey 
all  the  same. 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


It  lies  deep  in  our  habits,  confirmed  by  all  manner  of 
educational  and  other  arrangements  for  several  centu- 
ries back,  to  consider  human  talent  as  best  of  all 
evincing  itself  by  the  faculty  of  eloquent  speech 
Our  earliest  schoolmasters  teach  us,  as  the  one  gift  ot 
culture  they  have,  the  art  of  spelling  and  pronouncing, 
the  rules  of  correct  speech  ;  rhetorics,  logics  follow, 
sublime  mysteries  of  grammar,  whereby  we  may  not 
only  speak  but  write.  And  onward  to  the  last  of  our 
schoolmasters  in  the  highest  university,  it  is  still  in- 
trinsically grammar,  under  various  figures  grammar. 
To  speak  in  various  languages,  on  various  things,  but 
on  all  of  them  to  speak,  and  appropriately  deliver 
ourselves  by  tongue  or  pen,  —  this  is  the  sublime  goal 
towards  which  all  manner  of  beneficent  preceptors 
and  learned  professors,  from  the  lowest  hornbook  up- 
wards, are  continually  urging  and  guiding  us.  Pre- 
ceptor or  professor,  looking  over  his  miraculous  seed- 
plot,  seminary  as  he  well  calls  it,  or  crop  of  young 
human  souls,  watches  with  attentive  view  one  organ 
of  his  delightful  little  seedlings  growing  to  be  men, — 
the  tongue.  He  hopes  we  shall  all  get  to  speak  yet, 
if  it  please  Heaven.     "  Some  of  you  shall  be  book 


220  STUIMP- ORATOR. 

writers,  eloquent  review-writers,  and  astonish  man* 
kind,  my  young  friends  :  others  in  white  neckcloths 
shall  do  sermons  by  Blair  and  Lindley  Murray,  nay, 
by  Jeremy  Taylor  and  judicious  Hooker,  and  be 
priests  to  guide  men  heavenward  by  skilfully  bran- 
dished handkerchief  and  the  torch  of  rhetoric.  For 
others  there  is  Parliament  and  the  election  beerbarrel, 
and  a  course  that  leads  men  very  high  indeed  ;  these 
shall  shake  the  senate-house,  the  Morning  News- 
papers, shake  the  very  spheres,  and  by  dexterous  wag- 
ging of  the  tongue  disinthrall  mankind,  and  lead  our 
afflicted  country  and  us  on  the  way  we  are  to  go. 
The  way  if  not  where  noble  deeds  are  done,  yet  where 
noble  words  are  spoken,  —  leading  us  if  not  to  the 
real  Home  of  the  Gods,  at  least  to  something  which 
shall  more  or  less  deceptively  resemble  it !  " 

So  fares  it  with  the  son  of  Adam,  in  these  bewil- 
dered epochs  ;  so,  from  the  first  opening  of  his  eyes 
in  this  world,  to  his  last  closing  of  them,  and  depart- 
ure hence.  Speak,  speak,  O  speak;  —  if  thou  have 
any  faculty,  speak  it,  or  thou  diest  and  it  is  no  fac- 
ulty !  So  in  universities,  and  all  manner  of  dames' 
and  other  schools,  of  the  very  highest  class  as  of  tlie 
very  lowest ;  and  Society  at  large,  when  we  enter 
there,  confirms  with  all  its  brilliant  review-articles, 
successful  publications,  intellectual  tea-circles,  literary 
gazettes,  parliamentary  eloquences,  the  grand  lesson 
we  had.  Other  lesson  in  fact  we  have  none,  in  these 
times.  If  there  be  a  human  talent,  let  it  get  into  the 
tongue,  and  make  melody  with  that  organ.  The 
talent  that  can  say  nothing  for  itself,  what  is  it? 
Nothing  ;  or  a  thing  that  can  do  mere  drudgeries,  and 
at  best  make  money  by  railways. 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


221 


And  this  is  deep-rooted  in  our  habits,  in  our  social^ 
educational  and  other  arrangements ;  and  all  this, 
when  we  look  at  it  impartially,  is  astonishing.  Di- 
rectly in  the  teeth  of  all  this  it  may  he  asserted  that 
speaking  is  by  no  means  the  chief  faculty  a  human 
being  can  attain  to  ;  that  his  excellence  therein  is  by 
no  means  the  best  test  of  his  general  human  excel- 
lence, or  availability  in  this  world  ;  nay  that,  unless 
we  look  well,  it  is  liable  to  become  the  very  worst 
test  ever  devised  for  raid  availability.  The  matter 
extends  very  far,  down  to  the  very  roots  of  the  world, 
whither  the  British  reader  cannot  conveniently  follow 
me  just  now  :  but  I  will  venture  to  assert  the  three 
following  things,  and  invite  him  to  consider  well 
wdiat  truth  he  can  gradually  find  in  them  : 

First,  that  excellent  speech,  even  speech  reallij 
excellent,  is  not,  and  never  was,  the  chief  test  of  hu- 
man faculty,  or  the  measure  of  a  man's  ability,  for 
any  true  function  whatsoever  ;  on  the  contrary,  that 
excellent  silence  needed  always  to  accompany  excel- 
lent speech,  and  was  and  is  a  much  rarer  and  more 
difficult  gift.  Secondly,  that  really  excellent  speech, 
—  which  I,  being  possessed  of  the  Hebrew  Bible  or 
Book,  as  well  as  of  other  books  in  my  own  and  for- 
eign languages,  and  having  occasionally  heard  a  wise 
man's  word  among  the  crowd  of  unwise,  do  almost 
unspeakably  esteem,  as  a  human  gift, — is  terribly 
apt  to  get  confounded  with  its  counterfeit,  sham- 
excellent  speech !  And  furthermore,  that  if  really 
excellent  human  speech  is  among  the  best  of  hinnar. 
things,  then  sham-excellent  ditto  deserves  to  be  ranked 
with  the  very  worst.  False  speech,  —  capable  of 
19* 


222  STUMP-OKATOR. 

becoming,  as  some  one  has  said,  the  falsest  and  basest 
of  all  human  things  : — put  the  case,  one  were  listen- 
ing to  that  as  to  the  truest  and  noblest !  Which,  little 
as  we  are  conscious  of  it,  I  take  to  be  the  sad  lot  of 
many  excellent  souls  among  us  just  now.  So  many 
as  admire  parliamentary  eloquence,  divine  popular  lit* 
erature,  and  suchlike,  are  dreadfully  liable  to  it  just 
now ;  and  whole  nations  and  generations  seem  as  if 
getting  themselves  asphyxiaed,  constitutionally,  into 
their  last  sleep,  by  means  of  it  just  now  !  For  alas, 
much  as  we  worship  speech  on  all  hands,  here  is  a 
third  assertion  which  a  man  may  venture  to  make, 
and  iuvite  considerate  men  to  reflect  upon  :  That  in 
these  times,  and  for  several  generations  back,  there 
has  been,  strictly  considered,  no  really  excellent 
speech  at  all,  but  sham-excellent  merely  ;  that  is  to 
say,  false  or  quasi-false  speech  getting  itself  admired 
and  worshipped,  instead  of  detested  and  suppressed. 
A  truly  alarming  predicament ;  and  not  the  less  so  if 
we  find  it  a  quite  pleasant  one  for  the  time  being,  and 
welcome  the  advent  of  asphyxia,  as  we  would  that 
of  comfortable  natural  sleep  ;  —  as,  in  so  many  senses, 
we  are  doing  !  Surly  judges  there  have  been  who 
did  not  much  admire  the  '  Bible  of  Modern  Litera- 
ture,' or  any  thing  you  could  distil  from  it,  iu  contrast 
with  the  ancient  Bibles  ;  and  found  that  in  the  matter 
of  speaking,  our  far  best  excellence,  where  that  could 
be  obtained,  was  excellent  silence,  which  means  en- 
durance and  exertion,  and  good  w^o/Vv  with  lips  closed  ; 
and  that  our  tolerablest  speech  was  of  the  nature  of 
honest  commonplace  introduced  where  indispensable, 
which  only  set  up  for  being  brief  and  true,  and  could 


STUMP-ORATOR.  223 

not  be  mistaken  for  excellent.  These  are  hard  say- 
ings for  many  a  British  reader,  unconscious  of  any 
damage,  nay  joyfully  conscious  to  himself  of  much 
profit,  from  that  side  of  his  possessions.  Surely  on 
this  ^ide,  if  on  no  other,  matters  stood  not  ill  with 
him  ?  The  ingenuous  arts  had  softened  his  manners  ; 
the  parliamentary  eloquences  supplied  him  with  a 
succedaneum  for  government,  the  popular  literatures 
with  the  finer  sensibilities  of  the  heart :  surely  on 
this  ivindwai'd  side  of  things  the  British  reader  was 
not  ill  off?  —  Unhappy  British  reader  ! 

In  fact,  the  spiritual  detriment  we  unconsciously 
suffer,  in  every  province  of  our  aflfairs,  from  this  our 
prostrate  respect  to  power  of  speech  is  incalculable. 
For  indeed  it  is  the  natural  consummation  of  an  epoch 
such  as  ours.  Given  a  general  insincerity  of  mind 
for  several  generations,  you  will  certainly  find  the 
Talker  established  in  the  place  of  honor;  and  the 
Doer,  hidden  in  the  obscure  crowd,  with  activity 
lamed,  or  working  sorrowfully  forward  on  paths  un- 
worthy of  him.  All  men  are  devoutly  prostrate, 
worshipping  the  elo'quent  talker;  and  no  man  knows 
what  a  scandalous  idol  he  is.  Out  of  whom  in  the 
mildest  manner,  like  comfortable  natural  rest,  comes 
mere  asphyxia  and  death  everlasting  !  Probably  there 
is  not  in  Nature  a  more  distracted  phantasm  than 
your  conmionplace  eloquent  speaker,  as  he  is  found  on 
platforms,  iii  parliaments,  on  Kentucky  stumps,  at 
tavern-dinners,  in  windy,  empty,  insincere  times  like 
ours.  The  'excellent  Stump-Orator,' as  our  admiring 
Yankee  friends  define  him,  he  who  in  any  occurrent 
set  of  circumstances  can  start  forth,  mount  upon  his 


224 


STUMP-ORj\TOR. 


*  Stump,'  liis  rostrum,  tribune,  place  in  parliament,  or 
other  ready  elevation,  and  pour  forth  from  him  his  ap- 
propriate 'excellent  speech,'  his  interpretation  of  the 
said  circumstances,  in  sucii  manner  as  poor  windy  mor- 
tals round  him  shall  cry  bravo  to,  —  he  is  not  an  artist 
I  can  much  admire,  as  matters  go  !  Alas,  he  is  in  gen- 
eral merely  the  windiest  mortal  of  them  all  ;  and 
is  admired  for  being  so,  into  the  bargain.  Not  a 
windy  blockhead  there  who  kept  silent  but  is  better 
off  than  this  excellent  stump-orator.  Better  off,  for 
a  great  many  reasons;  for  this  reason,  were  there  no 
other:  the  silent  one  is  not  admired  ;  the  silent  sus- 
pects, perhaps  partly  admits,  th^it  he  is  a  kind  of 
blockhead,  from  which  salutary  self-knowledge  the 
excellent  stump-orator  is  debarred.  A  mouthpiece  of 
Chaos  to  poor  benighted  mortals  that  lend  ear  to  him 
as  to  a  voice  from  Cosmos,  this  excellent  stump-orator 
fills  me  with  amazement.  Not  empty  these  musical 
wind-utterances  of  his ;  they  are  big  with  prophecy  ; 
they  announce,  too  audibly  to  me,  that  the  end  of 
many  things  is  drawing  nigh  ! 

Let  the  British  reader  consider  it  a  little  ;  he  too  is 
not  a  little  interested  in  it.  Nay  he,  and  the  Eu- 
ropean reader  in  general,  bnt  he  chiefly  in  these  days, 
will  require  to  consider  it  a  great  deal,  — and  to  take 
important  steps  in  consequence  by  and  by,  if  I  mis- 
take not.  And  in  the  meanwhile,  sunk  as  he  himself 
is  in  that  bad  element,  and  like  a  jaundiced  man 
struggling  to  discriminate  yellow  colors,  —  he  will 
have  to  meditate  long  before  he  in  any  measure  get 
the  immense  meanings  of  the  thing  brought  home 
to  him  ;.  and  discern,  with  asto^iishment,  alarm,  and 


STUMP-ORATOR.  225 

almost  terror  and  despair,  towards  what  fatal  issues, 
in  our  Collective  Wisdom  and  elsewhere,  this  notion 
of  talent  meaning  eloquent  speech,  so  obstinately  en- 
tertained this  long  while,  has  been  leading  us  !  Who- 
soever shall  look  well  into  origins  and  issues,  will  find 
this  of  eloquence  and  the  part  it  now  plays  in  our 
affairs,  to  be  one  of  the  gravest  phenomena;  and  the 
excellent  stump-orator  of  these  days  to  be  not  only  a 
ridiculous  but  still  more  a  highly  tragical  personage. 
While  the  many  listen  to  him,  the  few  are  used  to 
pass  rapidly,  with  some  gust  of  scornful  laughter, 
some  growl  of  impatient  malediction ;  but  he  de- 
serves from  this  latter  class  a  much  more  serious 
attention. 

In  the  old  Ages,  when  Universities  and  Schools 
were  first  instituted,  this  function  of  the  schoolmavS- 
ter,  to  teach  mere  speaking,  was  the  natural  one.  In 
those  healthy  times,  guided  by  silent  instincts  and 
the  monition  of  Nature,  men  had  from  of  old  been 
used  to  teach  themselves  what  it  was  essential  to 
learn,  by  the  one  sure  method  of  learning  anything, 
practical  apprenticeship  to  it.  This  was  the  rule  for 
all  classes  ;  as  it  now  is  the  rule,  unluckily,  for  only 
one  class.  The  Working  Man  as  yet  sought  only  to 
know  his  craft ;  and  educated  himself  sufficiently  by 
ploughing  and  hammering,  under  the  conditions  given, 
and  in  fit  relation  to  the  persons  given :  a  course  of 
education,  then  as  now  and  ever,  really  opulent  in 
manful  culture  and  instruction  to  him  ;  teaching 
him  many  solid  virtues,  and  most  indubitably  useful 
knowledges  ;  developing  in  him  valuable  faculties  not 


226  STUMP- OHAT  OR. 

a  few  both  to  do  and  to  endure, — among  which  the 
faculty  of  elaborate  grammatical  utterance,  seeing  be 
had  so  little  of  extraordinary  to  utter,  or  to  learn  from 
spoken  or  writtei]  utterances,  was  not  bargained  for  ; 
the  grammar  of  Nature,  which  he  learned  from  bis 
motbcr,  being  still  amply  sufficient  for  him.  This 
was,  as  it  still  is,  the  grand  education  of  the  Working 
Man. 

As  for  the  Priest,  though  his  trade  was  cleai'ly  of  a 
reading  and  speaking  nature,  be  knew  also  in  those 
veracious  times  that  grammar,  if  needful,  was  by  no 
means  tbe  one  tbing  needful,  or  tlie  chief  thing.  By 
far  tbe  cbief  thing  needful,  and  indeed  the  one  tbing 
then  as  now,  was,  Tbat  tbere  should  be  in  him  tbe 
feeling  and  the  practice  of  reverence  to  God  and  to 
men;  tbat  in  his  life's  core  there  sbould  dwell,  spoken 
or  silent,  a  lay  of  pious  wisdom  fit  for  illuminating  dark 
human  destinies  ;  —  not  so  much  tbat  he  sbould  pos- 
sess tbe  art  of  speech,  as  that  he  sbould  have  something 
to  speak  !  And  for  tbat  latter  requisite  tbe  Priest  also 
trained  himself  by  apprenticeship,  by  actual  attempt  to 
practise,  by  manifold  long-continued  trial,  of  a  devout 
and  painful  nature,  such  as  his  superiors  prescribed  to 
him.  This,  wben  once  judged  satisfactory,  procured 
him  ordination  ;  and  his  grammar-learning,  in  tbe  good 
times  of  priestbood,  was  very  much  of  a  parergon  with 
him,  as  indeed  in  all  times  it  is  intrinsically  quite  in- 
significant in  comparison. 

The  young  Noble  again,  for  whom  grammar  school 
masters  were  first  hired  and  high  seminaries  founded 
he  too  without  tbese,  or  over  and  above  these,  had  from 
immemorial  time  been  used  to  learn  his  business  by 


STUMP-ORATOR.  327 

apprenticeship.    The  young  Noble,  before  the  school- 
master as  after  liim,  went  apprentice  to   some  elder 
noble  ;    entered   himself  as   page    with   some   distin- 
guished  earl    or   duke  ;    and   here,    serving    upwards 
from  step  to  step,  under  wise  monition,  learned   his 
chivalries,  his  practice  of  arms  and  of  courtesies,  liis 
baronial  duties  and  manners,  and  Avhat  it  would  be- 
seem him  to  do  and  to  be  in  the  world,  —  by  practi- 
cal attempt  of  his  own,  and  example  of  one  whose 
life  was  a  daily  concrete  pattern  for  him.     To  such 
a  one,  already  filled  with  intellectual  substance,  and 
possessing  what  we  may  call  the  practical  gold-bullion 
of  liuman  culture,  it  was  an  obvious  improvement  that 
he  should  be  taught  to  speak  it  out  of  him  on  occa- 
sion ;  that  he  should  carry  a  spiritual   banknote  pro- 
ducible  on   demand  for   Avhat   of   'gold-bullion'   he 
had,  not  so  negotiable  otherwise,  stored  in  the  cellars 
of  his  mind.     A  man,  Avith  wisdom,  insight  and  he- 
roic  worth   already  acquired   for  him,  naturally  de- 
manded of  the  schoolmaster  this  one  new  faculty,  the 
faculty  of  uttering  in  fit  words  what  he  had.     A  val- 
uable superaddition  of  faculty:  —  and  yet  we  are  to 
remember  it  was  scarcely  a  new  faculty  ;  it  was  but 
the  tangible  sign  of  what  other  faculties  the  man  had 
jn  the  silent  state  :  and  many  a  rugged  inarticulate 
chief  of  men,  I  can  believe,  was  most  enviably  'edu- 
cated,' who  had  not  a  Book  on  his  premises;  w^hose 
signature,  a  true  sign-manual,  was  the  stamp  of  his 
iron  hand  duly  inked  and  clapt  upon  the  parchment ; 
and  whose  speech  in  Parliament,  like  the  growl  of 
lions,   did    indeed    convey   his    meaning,  but    would 
have  torn   Lindley  Murray's  nerves  to  pieces  !     To 


228  STUMP-ORATOR. 

siirh  a  one  the  schoolmaster  adjusted  himself  very 
naturally  in  that  manner ;  as  a  man  wanted  for  teach- 
ing grahimatical  utterance  ;  the  thing  to  utter  being 
already  there.  The  thing  to  utter,  here  was  the 
grand  point  !  And  perliaps  this  is  the  reason  why 
among  earnest  nations,  as  among  the  Romans  for 
example,  the  craft  of  the  schoolmaster  was  held  in 
little  regard  ;  for  indeed  as  mere  teacher  of  grammar, 
of  ciphering  on  the  abacus  and  suchlike,  how  did  he 
differ  much  from  the  dancing-master  or  fencing-mas- 
ter, or  deserve  much  regard  ?  —  Such  was  the  rule  in 
the  ancient  healthy  times. 

Can  it  be  doubtful  that  this  is  still  the  rule  of  hu- 
man education  ;  that  the  human  creature  needs  first 
of  all  to  be  educated  not  that  he  may  speak,  but  that 
he  may  have  something  weighty  and  valuable  to  say  ! 
If  speech  is  the  banknote  for  an  inward  capital  of 
culture,  of  insight  and  noble  human  worth,  then 
speech  is  precious,  and  the  art  of  speech  shall  be 
honored.  But  if  there  is  no  inward  capital ;  if  speech 
represent  no  real  culture  of  the  mind,  but  an  imagi- 
nary culture  ;  no  bullion,  but  the  fatal  and  now 
almost  hopeless  deficit  of  such  ?  Alas,  alas,  said 
banknote  is  then  a  forged  one  ;  passing  freely  cur- 
rent in  the  market  ;  but  bringing  damages  to  the 
receiver,  to  the  payer,  and  to  all  the  world,  which 
are  in^ad  truth  infallible,  and  of  amount  incalcu- 
lable. Few  think  of  it  at  present ;  but  the  truth 
remains  forever  so.  In  parliaments  and  other  loud 
assemblages,  your  eloquent  talk,  o?«sunited  from  Na- 
ture and  her  facts,  is  taken  as  wisdom  and  the  correct 


STUMP- ORATOR.  229 

image  of  said  facts  :  but  Nature  well  knows  what  it 
is,  Nature  will  not  have  it  as  such,  and  will  reject 
your  forged  note  one  day,  with  huge  costs.  The 
foolish  traders  in  the  market  pass  it  freely,  nothing 
doubting,  and  rejoice  in  the  dexterous  execution  of 
the  piece  ;  and  so  it  circulates  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  from  class  to  class ;  gravitating  ever  downwards 
towards  the  practical  class;  till  at  last  it  reaches  some 
poor  ivorking  hand,  who  can  pass  it  no  farther,  but 
must  take  it  to  the  bank  to  get  bread  with  it,  and 
there  the  answer  is,  "  Unhappy  caitiff,  this  note  is 
forged.  It  does  not  mean  performance  and  reality, 
in  parliaments  and  elsewhere,  for  thy  behoof;  it  means 
fallacious  semblance  of  performance  ;  and  thou,  poor 
dupe,  art  thrown  into  the  stocks  on  offering  it  here  !  " 

Alas,  alas,  looking  abroad  over  Irish  difficulties, 
Mosaic  sweating  establishments,  French  barricades, 
and  an  anarchic  Europe,  is  it  not  as  if  all  the  popula- 
tions of  the  world  were  rising,  or  had  risen,  into 
incendiary  madness;  unable  longer  to  endure  such 
an  avalanche  of  forgeries,  and  of  penalties  in  conse- 
quence, as  had  accumulated  upon  them  ?  The 
speaker  is  '  excellent ;  '  the  notes  he  does  are  beauti- 
ful ?  Beautifully  fit  for  the  market,  yes  ;  he  is  an 
excellent  artist  in  his  business  ;  —  and  the  more  excel- 
lent he  is,  the  more  is  my  desire  to  lay  him  by  the 
heels,  and  fling  him  into  the  treadmill,  that  I  might 
save  the  poor  sweating  tailors,  French  Sansculottes, 
and  Irish  Sanspotatoes,  from  bearing  the  smart  ! 

For  the  smart  must  be  borne  ;  some  one  must  bear 
it,  as  sure  as  God  lives.  Every  word  of  man  is  either 
a  note  or  a  forged-note:  —  have  these  eternal  ski'^s 
20 


4.3^ 


STMIMP-OEATOR. 


forgotten  to  be  in  earnest,  think  you,  because  men  go 
grinning  like  enchanted  apes  ?  Foohsh  souls,  this 
now  as  of  old  is  the  unalterable  law  of  your  exist- 
ance.  If  you  know  the  truth  and  do  it,  the  Universe 
itself  seconds  you,  bears  you  on  to  sure  victory  every- 
where : —  and,  observe,  to  sure  defeat  everywhere  if 
you  do  not  do  the  truth.  And  alas,  if  you  Jaiow  only 
the  eloquent  fallacious  semblance  of  the  truth,  what 
chance  is  there  of  your  ever  doing  it  ?  You  will  do 
something  very  different  from  «7,  I  think!  —  He  who 
well  considers,  will  find  this  same  'art  of  speech,'  as 
we  moderns  have  it.  to  be  a  truly  astonishing  product 
of  the  Ages  ;  and  the  longer  he  considers  it,  the  more 
astonishing  and  alarming.  I  reckon  it  the  saddest  of 
all  the  curses  that  now  lie  heavy  on  us.  With  horror 
and  amazement,  one  perceives  that  this  much  cele- 
brated -art,'  so  diligently  practised  in  all  corners  of 
the  world  just  now,  is  the  chief  destroyer  of  what- 
ever good  is  born  to  us  (softly,  swiftly  shutting  up  all 
nascent  good,  as  if  under  exhausted  glass-receivers, 
there  to  choke  and  die);  and  the  grand  parent-manu- 
factory of  evil  to  us,  —  as  it  were,  the  last  finishing 
and  varnishing  workshop  of  all  the  Devil's  ware  that 
circulates  under  the  sun.  No  Devil's  sham  is  fit  for 
the  market  till  it  have  been  polished  and  enamelled 
here ;  this  is  the  general  assaying-house  for  such, 
where  the  artists  examine  and  answer,  "Fit  for  the 
market ;  not  fit !  "  Words  will  not  express  what  mis- 
chiefs the  misuse  of  words  has  done,  and  is  doing,  in 
these  heavyladen  generations. 

Do  you  want  a  man  not  to  practise  what  he  believes, 
then  encourage  him  to  keep  often  speaking  it  in  words 


STUMP-ORATOR.  231 

Every  time  he  speaks  it,  the  tendency  to  do  it  will 
grow  less.  His  empty  speech  of  what  he  believes, 
will  be  a  weariness  and  an  affliction  to  the  wise  man. 
But  do  you  wish  his  empty  speech  of  what  he  believes, 
to  become  farther  an  insincere  speech  of  what  he  does 
not  believe  ?  Celebrate  to  him  his  gift  of  speech  ; 
assure  him  that  he  shall  rise  in  Parliament  by  means 
of  it,  and  achieve  great  thiiigs  without  any  perform- 
ance ;  that  eloquent  speech,  whether  performed  or 
not,  is  admirable.  My  friends,  eloquent  unperformed 
speech,  in  Parliament  or  elsewhere,  is  horrible  !  The 
eloquent  man  that  delivers,  in  Parliament  or  else- 
where, a  beautiful  speech,  and  will  perform  nothing 
of  it,  but  leaves  it  as  if  ah'eady  performed, —  what 
can  you  make  of  that  man  ?  He  has  enrolled  him- 
self among  the  Ignes  Fatui  and  Children  of  the 
Wind ;  means  to  serve,  as  beautifully  illuminated 
Chinese  Lantern,  in  that  corps  henceforth.  I  think, 
the  serviceable  thing  you  could  do  to  that  man,  if 
permissible,  would  be  a  severe  one  :  To  clip  off  o.  bit 
of  his  eloquent  tongue,  by  way  of  penance  and  warn- 
ing ;  another  bit,  if  he  again  spoke  without  perform- 
ing ;  and  so  again,  till  you  had  dipt  the  whole  tongue 
away  from  him, — and  were  delivered,  you  and  he, 
from  at  least  one  miserable  mockery :  "  There,  elo- 
quent friend,  see  now  in  silence  if  there  be  any  re- 
deeming deed  in  thee ;  of  blasphemous  wind-eloquence, 
at  least,  we  shall  have  no  more  !  "  How  many  pretty 
men  have  gone  this  road,  escorted  by  the  beautifullest 
marching  music  from  all  the  '  public  organs ; '  and 
have  found  at  last  that  it  ended  —  where?  It  is  the, 
broad  road,  that  leads  direct  to  Limbo  and  the  King- 


232  STUMP-ORATOR. 

dom  of  the  Inane.  Gifted  men,  and  once  valiant  na- 
tions, and  as  it  were  the  whole  world  with  one  accord, 
are  marching  thither,  in  melodious  trinmph,  all  the 
drums  and  hautboys  giving  out  their  cheerfullest 
ga-ira.  It  is  the  universal  humor  of  the  world  just 
now.  My  friends,  I  am  very  sure  you  will  arrivCi 
unless  you  halt  !  — 

Considered  as  the  last  finish  of  education,  or  of 
human  culture,  worth  and  acquirement,  the  art  of 
speech  is  noble,  and  even  divine ;  it  is  like  the  kin- 
dling of  a  Heaven's  light  to  shov)  us  what  a  glorious 
world  exists,  and  has  perfected  itself,  in  a  man.  But 
if  no  world  extst  in  the  man  ;  if  nothing  but  con- 
tinents of  empty  vapor,  of  greedy  self-conceits,  com- 
monplace hearsays,  and  indistinct  loomings  of  a 
sordid  chaos  exist  in  him,  what  will  be  the  use  of 
'  light '  to  show  us  that  ?  Better  a  thousand  times 
that  such  a  man  do  not  speak  ;  but  keep  his  empty 
vapor  and  his  sordid  chaos  to  himself,  hidden. to  the 
utmost  from  all  beholders.  To  look  on  that,  can  be 
good  for  no  human  beholder  ;  to  look  away  from  that, 
must  be  good.  And  if,  by  delusive  semblances  of 
rhetoric,  logic,  first-class  degrees,  and  the  aid  of 
elocution-masters  and  parliamentary  reporters,  the 
poor  proprietor  of  said  chaos  should  be  led  to  per- 
suade himself,  and  get  others  persuaded,  —  which  it 
is  the  nature  of  his  sad  task  to  do,  and  which,  in 
certain  eras  of  the  world,  it  is  fatally  possible  to  do, 
—  that  this  is  a  cosmos  which  he  owns;  that  he^ 
being  so  perfect  in  tongue-exercise  and  full  of  college- 
honors,  is  an   '  educated '    man,    and  pearl   of  great 


STUMP-ORATOR.  233 

price  ill  his  generation  ;  that,  round  him,  and  his  par- 
liament emnlonsly  listening  to  him,  as  round  some 
divine  apple  of  gold  set  in  a  picture  of  silver,  all  the 
world  should  gather  to  adore  :  what  is  likely  to  be- 
come of  him  and  the  gathering  world  ?  An  apple  of 
Sodom,  set  in  the  clusters  of  Gomorrah  :  that,  little 
as  he  suspects  it,  is  the  definition  of  the  poor  chaoti- 
cally eloquent  man,  with  his  emulous  parliament  and 
miserable  adoring  world  !  —  Considered  as  the  whole 
of  education,  or  human  culture,  which  it  now  is  in 
our  modern  manners  ;  all  apprenticeship  except  to 
mere  handicraft  having  fallen  obsolete,  and  the  'ed- 
ucated man  '  being  with  us  emphatically  and  exclu- 
sively the  man  that  can  speak  well  with  tongue  or 
pen,  and  astonish  men  by  the  quantities  of  speech  he 
has  heard  (' tremendous  reac/er,'  'walking  encyclo- 
paedia,' and  suchlike),  —  the  Art  of  Speech  is  proba- 
bly definable  in  that  case  as  the  short  summary  of 
all  the  Black  Ai'ts  put  together. 


But  the  Schoolmaster  is  secondary,  an  effect  rather 
than  a  cause  in  this  matter :  what  the  Schoolmaster 
with  his  universities  shall  manage  or  attempt  to 
teach  will  be  ruled  by  what  the  Society  with  its 
practical  industries  is  continually  demanding  that 
men  should  learn.  We  spoke  once  of  vital  lungs  iov 
Society  :  and  in  fact  this  question  always  rises  as  the 
alpha  and  omega  of  social  questions,  What  methods 
the  Society  has  of  summoning  aloft  into  the  high 
places,  for  its  help  and  governance,  the  wisdom  that 
20* 


234  STUMP-ORATOR. 

IS  born  to  it  in  all  places,  and  of  course  is  horn  chiefly 
in  the  more  populous  or  lower  places?  For  this,  if 
you  will  consider  it,  expresses  the  ultimate  available 
result,  and  net  sum-total,  of  all  the  efforts,  struggles 
and  confused  activities  that  go  on  in  the  Society  ; 
and  determines  whether  they  are  true  and  wise  efforts, 
certain  to  be  victorious,  or  false  and  foolish,  certain 
to  be  futile,  and  to  fall  captive  and  caitiff.  How  do 
men  rise  in  your  Society?  In  all  Societies,  Turkey 
included,  and  I  suppose  Dahomey  included,  men  do 
rise  ;  but  the  question  of  questions  always  is.  What 
kind  of  men  ?  Men  of  noble  gifts,  or  men  of  igno- 
ble ?  It  is  the  one  or  the  other ;  and  a  life-and-death 
inquiry  which  !  For  in  all  places  and  all  times,  little 
as  you  may  heed  it.  Nature  most  silently  but  most 
inexorably  demands  that  it  be  the  one  and  not  the 
other.  And  you  need  not  try  to  palm  an  ignoble 
sham  upon  her,  and  call  it  noble  ;  for  she  is  a  judge. 
And  her  ])enalties,  as  quiet  as  she  looks,  are  terrible  ; 
amounting  to  world-earthquakes,  to  anarchy  and 
death  everlasting  ;  and  admit  of  no  appeal  !  — 

Surely  England  still  flatters  herself  that  she  has 
lungs  ;  that  she  can  still  breathe  a  little  ?  Or  is  it 
that  the  poor  creature,  driven  into  mere  blind  indus- 
trialisms  ;  and  as  it  were,  gone  pearl-diving  this  long 
while  many  fathoms  deep,  and  tearing  up  the  oyster- 
beds  so  as  never  creature  did  before,  hardly  knows, 
—  so  busy  in  the  belly  of  the  oyster-chaos,  where  is 
no  thought  of  'breathing,'  —  whether  she  has  lungs 
or  not  ?  Nations  of  a  robust  habit,  and  fine  deep 
chest,  can  sometimes  take  in  a  deal  of  breath  before 
diving ;   and  live  long,  in  the  muddy  deeps,  without 


STUMP-ORATOH.  235 

new  breath  :  but  they  too   ccme  to   need   it  at  last, 
and  will  die  if  they  cannot  get  it  ! 

To  the  gifted  soul  that  is  born  in  England,  what 
is  the  career,  then,  that  will  carry  him,  amid  noble 
Olympic  dust,  up  to  the  immortal  gods?  For  his 
country's  sake,  that  it  may  not  lose  the  service  he 
was  born  capable  of  doing  it  ;  for  his  own  sake,  that 
his  life  be  not  choked  and  perverted,  and  his  light 
from  Heaven  be  not  changed  into  lightning  from  the 
Other  Place,  —  it  is  essential  that  there  be  such  a 
career.  The  country  that  can  offer  no  career  in  that 
case,  is  a  doomed  country  ;  nay  it  is  already  a  dead 
country  :  it  has  secured  the  ban  of  Heaven  upon  it  ; 
will  not  have  Heaven's  light,  will  have  the  Other 
Place's  lightning  ;  and  may  consider  itself  as  ap- 
pointed to  expire,  in  frightful  coughings  of  street 
musketry  or  otherwise,  on  a  set  day,  and  to  be  in  the 
eye  of  law  dead.  In  no  country  is  there  not  some 
career,  inviting  to  it  either  the  noble  Hero,  or  the 
tough  Greek  of  the  Lower  Empire  :  which  of  the 
two  do  your  careers  invite?  There  is  no  question 
more  important.  The  kind  of  careers  you  offer  in 
countries  still  living,  determines  with  perfect  exact- 
ness the  kind  of  the  life  that  is  in  them,  —  whether 
it  is  natural  blessed  life,  or  galvanic  accursed  ditto, 
and  likewise  what  degree  of  strength  is  in  the  same. 

Our  English  careers  to  born  genius  are  twofold. 
There  is  the  silent  or  unlearned  career  of  the  Indus- 
trialisms,  which  are  very  many  among  us  ;  and  there 
is  the  articulate  or  learned  career  of  the  three  profes- 
sions, Medicine,  Law  (under  which  we  may  include 
Politics),  and  the  Church.      Your  born  genius,  there- 


2^6  STUMP-ORATOR. 

fore,  will  first  liave  to  ask  himself,  Whether  he  can 
hold  his  tongue  or  cannot  ?  True,  all  human  talent, 
especially  all  deep  talent,  is  a  talent  to  do,  and  is 
intrinsically  of  silent  nature  ;  inaudible,  like  the 
Sphere  Harmonies  and  Eternal  Melodies,  of  which  it 
is  an  incarnated  fraction.  All  real  talent,  I  fancy, 
would  much  rather,  if  it  listened  only  to  Nature's 
monitions,  express  itself  in  rhythmic  facts,  than  in 
melodious  words,  which  latter  at  best,  where  they 
are  good  for  anything,  are  only  a  feeble  echo  and 
shadow  or  foreshadow  of  the  former.  But  talents 
differ  much  in  this  of  power  to  be  silent  ;  and  cir- 
cumstances, of  position,  opportunity  and  suchlike, 
modify  them  still  more  ;  —  and  Nature's  monitions, 
oftenest  quite  drowned  in  foreign  hearsays,  are  by  no 
means  the  only  ones  listened  to  in  deciding  !  —  The 
Industrialisms  are  all  of  silent  nature  ;  and  some  of 
them  are  heroic  and  eminently  human  ;  others  again 
we  may  call  unheroic,  not  eminently  human,  beaver- 
ish  rather,  but  still  honest ;  some  are  even  vulpine^ 
altogether  inhuman,  and  dishonest.  Your  born 
genius  must  make  his  choice. 

If  a  soul  is  born  Avith  divine  intelligence,  and  has 
its  lips  touched  with  hallowed  fire,  in  consecration 
for  high  enterprises  under  the  sun,  this  young  soul 
will  find  the  question  asked  of  him  by  England  every 
hour  and  moment  :  ''  Canst  thou  turn  thy  human  in- 
telligence into  the  beaver  sort,  and  make  honest  con- 
trivance, and  accumulation  of  capital  by  it?  If  so, 
do  it  ;  and  avoid  the  vulpine  kind,  which  I  don't 
recommend.  Honest  triumphs  in  engineering  and 
machinery  await  thee  ;  scrip  awaits  thee,  eommerciaj 


STUMP-ORATOR.  237 

successes,  kingship  in  the  counting-room,  on  the  stock 
exchange;  —  thou  shalt  be  the  envy  of  surrounding 
flunkeys,  and  collect  into  a  heap  more  gold  than  a 
drayhorse  can  draw."  —  "Gold,  so  much  gold?" 
answers  the  ingenuous  soul,  with  visions  of  the  envy 
of  surrounding  flunkeys  dawning  on  him  ;  and  in  very 
many  cases  decides  that  he  will  contract  himself  into 
beaverism,  and  with  such  a  horse-draught  of  gold, 
emblem  of  a  never-imagined  success  in  beaver  hero- 
ism, strike  the  siUTOunding  flunkeys  yellow. 

This  is  our  common  course  ;  this  is  in  some  sort 
open  to  every  creature,  Avhat  we  call  the  beaver  career ; 
perhaps  more  open  in  England,  taking  in  America  too, 
than  it  ever  was  in  any  country  before.  And,  truly, 
good  consequences  follow  out  of  it :  who  can  be  blind 
to  them  ?  Half  of  a  most  excellent  and  opulent 
result  is  realized  to  us  in  this  way  ;  baleful  only  when 
it  sets  up  (as  too  often  now)  for  being  the  whole  re- 
sult. A  half- result  which  will  be  blessed  and  heavenly 
no  soon  as  the  other  half  is  had,  —  namely  wisdom  to 
guide  the  first  half.  Let  us  honor  all  honest  human 
power  of  contrivance  in  its  degree.  The  beaver  in- 
tellect, so  long  as  it  steadfastly  refuses  to  be  vulpine, 
and  answers  the  tempter  pointing  out  short  routes  to 
it  with  an  honest  '-'No,  no,"  is  truly  respectable  to 
mo  :  and  many  a  highflying  speaker  and  singer  whom 
I  have  known,  has  appeared  to  me  much  less  of  a 
developed  man  than  certain  of  my  mill-owning,  agri- 
cultural, commercial,  mechanical,  or  otherwise  indus- 
trial friends,  who  have  held  their  peace  all  their  days 
and  gone  on  in  the  silent  state.  If  a  man  can  keep 
his  intellec-t  silent,  and  make  it  even  into  honest  bea- 


238  STUMP-ORATOR. 

verism,  several  veiy  manful  moralities,  in  clanger  of 
wreck  on  other  courses,  may  comport  well  with  that, 
and  give  it  a  genuine  and  partly  human  character  ; 
and  I  will  (ell  him,  in  these  days  he  may  do  far  worse 
with  himself  and  his  intellect  than  change  it  into 
beaverism,  and  make  honest  money  with  it.  If  in- 
deed he  could  become  a  heroic  industrial,  and  have  a 
life  '  eminently  human  ! '  But  that  is  not  easy  at 
present.  Probably  some  ninety-nine  out  of  every 
hundred  of  our  gifted  souls,  who  have  to  seek  a  career 
for  themselves,  go  this  beaver  road.  Whereby  the 
first  half-result,  national  wealth  namely,  is  plentifully 
realized  ;  and  only  the  second  half,  or  wisdom  to  guide 
it,  is  dreadfully  behindhand. 

But  now  if  the  gifted  soul  be  not  of  taciturn  na- 
ture, be  of  vivid,  impatient,  rapidly  productive  nature, 
and  aspire  much  to  give  itself  sensible  utterance,  —  I 
find  that,  in  this  case,  the  field  it  has  in  England  is 
narrow  to  an  extreme  ;  is  perhaps  narrower  than  ever 
oifered  itself,  for  the  like  object,  in  this  world  before. 
Parliament,  Church,  Law  :  let  the  young  vivid  soul 
turn  whither  he  will  for  a  career,  he  finds  among  va- 
riable conditions  one  condition  invariable,  and  ex- 
tremely surprising,  That  the  proof  of  excellence  is  to 
be  done  by  the  tongue.  For  heroism  that  will  not 
speak,  but  only  act,  there  is  no  account  kept:  —  the 
English  Nation  does  not  need  that  silent  kind,  then, 
but  only  the  talking  kind  ?  Most  astonishing.  Of 
all  the  organs  a  man  has,  there  is  none  held  in  account, 
it  would  appear,  but  the  tongue  he  uses  for  talking. 
Premiership,  woolsack,  mitre,  and  quasi-crown :  all  is 
attainable  if  you  can  talk  with  due  ability.     Every- 


STUMP- ORATOR.  235 

Avhere  your  proofshot  is  to  be  a  well-fired  volley  of 
talk.  Contrive  to  talk  well,  you  Avill  get  to  Heaven, 
the  modern  Heaven  of  the  English.  Do  not  talk 
well,  only  work  well,  and  heroically  hold  your  peace, 
you  have  no  chance  whatever  to  get  thither  ;  with 
your  utmost  industry  you  may  get  to  Threadneedle 
Street,  and  accumulate  more  gold  than  a  dray-horse 
can  draw.  Is  not  this  a  very  wonderful  arrangement  ? 
I  have  heard  of  races  done  by  mortals  tied  in  sacks  : 
of  human  competitors,  high  aspirants,  climbing  heaven- 
ward on  the  soaped  pole;  seizing  the  soaped  pig  ;  and 
clutching  with  deft  fist,  at  full  gallop,  the  fated  goose 
tied  aloft  by  its  foot ;  —  which  feats  do  prove  agility, 
toughness  and  other  useful  faculties  in  man  :  but  this 
of  dexterous  talk  is  probably  as  strange  a  competition 
as  any.  And  the  question  rises,  Whether  certain  of 
these  other  feats,  or  perhaps  an  alternation  of  all  of 
them,  relieved  now  and  then  by  a  bout  of  grinning 
through  the  collar,  might  not  be  profitably  substituted 
for  the  solitary  proof-feat  of  talk,  now  getting  rather 
monotonous  by  its  long  continuance  ?  Alas,  Mr.  Bull, 
I  do  find  it  is  all  little  other  than  a  proof  of  tough- 
ness, which  is  a  quality  I  respect,  with  more  or  less 
expenditure  of  falsity  and  astucity  superadded,  which 
I  entirely  condemn.  Toughness  plus  astucity  :  — 
perhaps  a  simple  wooden  mast  set  up  in  Palace-Yard, 
well  soaped  and  duly  presided  over,  might  be  the 
honester  method  ?  Such  a  method  as  this  by  trial 
of  talk,  for  filling  your  chief  offices  in  Church  ano 
State,  v/as  perhaps  never  heard  of  in  the  solar  systen' 
before.  You  are  quite  used  to  it,  my  poor  friend 
and  nearly  dead  by  the  consequences  of  it :  but  ir 


240  STU3IP- ORATOR. 

the  other  Planets,  as  in  other  epochs  of  your  own 
Planet  it  would  have  done  had  you  proposed  it,  the 
thing  awakens  incredulous  amazement,  world-wide 
Olympic  laughter,  which  ends  in  tempestuous  hoot- 
iiigs,  in  tears  and  horror  !  My  friend,  if  you  can,  as 
heretofore  this  good  while,  find  nobody  to  take  care 
of  your  aflairs  but  the  expertest  talker,  it  is  all  over 
with  your  affairs  and  you.  Talk  never  yet  could 
guide  any  man's  or  nation's  affairs  ;  nor  will  it  yours, 
except  towards  the  Limbiis  Patrum,  where  all  talk, 
except  a  very  select  kind  of  it,  lodges  at  last. 

Medicine,  guarded  too  by  preliminary  impediments, 
and  frightful  medusa-heads  of  quackery,  which  deter 
many  generous  souls  from  entering,  is  of  the  half- 
articulate  professions,  and  does  not  much  invite  the 
ardent  kinds  of  ambition.  The  intellect  required  for 
medicine  might  be  wholly  human,  and  indeed  should 
by  all  rules  be,  — the  profession  of  the  Human  Healer 
being  radically  a  sacred  one  and  connected  with  the 
highest  priesthoods,  or  rather  being  itself  the  outcome 
and  acme  of  all  priesthoods,  and  divinest  conquests 
of  intellect  here  below.  As  will  appear  one  day, 
when  men  take  off  their  old  monastic  and  ecclesiastic 
spectacles,  and  look  with  eyes  again  !  In  essence  the 
Physician's  task  is  always  heroic,  eminently  human  : 
but  in  practice  most  unluckily  at  present,  we  find  it 
too  become  in  good  part  beaverish  ;  yielding  a  money- 
result  alone.  And  what  of  it  is  not  beaverish,  — 
does  not  that  too  go  mainly  to  ingenious  talking,  pub- 
lishing of  yourself,  ingratiatuig  of  yourself;  a  partly 
human  exercise  or  waste  of  intellect,  and  alas  a  partly 


STUMP-OKATOR.  241 

vulpine  ditto  ;  —  making   the   once   sacred    'larpoj,  or 
Human  Healer,  more  impossible  for  us  than  ever  ! 

Angry  basilisks  watch  at  the  gates  of  Law  and 
Church  just  now  ;  and  strike  a  sad  damp  into  tlie 
nobler  of  the  young  aspirants.  Hard  bonds  are  offered 
you  to  sign  ;  as  it  were,  a  solemn  engagement  to  con- 
stitute yourself  an  impostor,  before  ever  entering  ;  to 
declare  your  belief  in  incredibilities,  —  your  determi-^ 
nation,  in  short,  to  take  ,Chaos  for  Cosmos,  and  Satan 
for  the  Lord  of  things,  if  he  come  with  money  in  his 
pockets,  and  horsehair  and  bombazine  decently  wrapt 
about  him.  Fatal  preliminaries,  which  deter  many 
an  ingenuous  young  soul,  and  send  him  back  from  the 
threshold,  and  I  hope  will  deter  ever  more.  But  if 
you  do  enter,  the  condition  is  well  known  :  ''  Talk  ; 
who  can  talk  best  here  ?  His  shall  be  the  mouth  of 
gold,  and  the  purse  of  gold  ;  and  with  my  /juVpa(once 
the  head-dress  of  unfortunate-females,  I  am  told) 
shall  his  sacred  temples  be  begirt." 

Ingenuous  souls,  unless  forced  to  it,  do  now  much 
shudder  at  the  threshold  of  both  these  careers,  and  not 
a  few  desperately  turn  back  into  the  wilderness  rather, 
to  front  a  very  rude  fortune,  and  be  devoured  by  wild 
beasts  as  is  likeliest.  But  as  to  Parliament,  again, 
and  its  eligibility  if  attainable,  there  is  yet  no  ques- 
tion anywhere  :  the  ingenuous  soul,  if  possessed  of 
money  capital  enough,  is  predestined  by  the  parental 
and  all  manner  of  monitors  to  that  career  of  talk  ;  and 
accepts  it  with  alacrity  and  clearness  of  heart,  doubt 
ful  only  whether  he  shall  be  able  to  make  a  speech 
Courage,  my  brave  young  fellow.  If  you  can  climb 
a  soaped  pole  of  any  kind,  you  will  certainly  be  able 


242  STUMP-ORATOR. 

to  make  a  speech.  All  mortals  have  a  tongue  ;  and 
carry  on  some  jumble,  if  not  of  thought,  yet  of  stuf!* 
which  they  could  talk.  The  weakest  of  animals  has 
got  a  cry  in  it,  and  can  give  voice  before  dying.  If 
you  are  tough  enough,  bent  upon  it  -desperately 
enough,  I  engage  you  shall  make  a  speech;  —  but 
whether  that  will  be  the  way  to  Heaven  for  you,  I  do 
not  engage. 

These,  then,  are  our  two  careers  for  genius  :  mute 
Industrialism,  which  can  seldom  become  very  human, 
but  remains  beaverish  mainly  :  and  the  three  Profes- 
sions named  learned, —  that  is  to  say,  able  to  talk. 
For  the  heroic  or  higher  kinds  of  human  intellect,  in 
the  silent  state,  there  is  not  the  smallest  inquiry  any- 
where :  apparently,  a  thing  not  wanted  in  this  coun- 
try at  present.  What  the  supply  may  be  I  cannot 
inform  M'Crowdy  ;  but  the  market-demand,  he  may 
himself  see,  is  nil.  These  are  our  three  professions 
that  require  human  intellect  in  part  or  whole,  not  able 
to  do  with  mere  beaverish  ;  and  such  a  part  does 
the  gift  of  talk  play  in  one  and  all  of  them.  What- 
soever is  not  beaverish  seems  to  go  forth  in  the  shape 
of  talk.  To  such  length  is  human  intellect  wasted 
or  suppressed  in  this  world  ! 

If  the  young  aspirant  is  not  rich  enough  for  Parlia- 
ment, and  is  deterred  by  the  basilisks  or  otherwise 
from  entering  on  Law  or  Church,  and  cannot  alto- 
gether reduce  his  human  intellect  to  the  beaverish 
condition,  or  satisfy  himself  with  the  prospect  of 
making  money,  —  what  becomes  of  him  in  such  case, 
a'hich  is  naturally  the  case  of  very  many,  and  eve** 


STU3IP-0RAT0R.  243 

of  more  ?  In  such  case  there  remains  but  one  outlet 
for  him,  and  notably  enough  that  too  is  a  talking  one  : 
the  outlet  of  Literature,  of  trying  to  write  Books. 
Since,  owing  to  preliminary  basilisks,  want  of  cash, 
or  superiority  to  cash,  he  cannot  mount  aloft  by  elo- 
quent talking,  let  him  try  it  by  dexterous  eloquent 
writing.  Here  happily,  having  three  fingers,  and 
capital  to  buy  a  quire  of  paper,  he  can  try  it  to  all 
lengths  and  in  spite  of  all  mortals  :  in  this  career 
there  is  happily  no  public  impediment  that  can  turn 
him  back  ;  nothing  but  private  starvation,  —  which  is 
itself  a/;/2"5  or  kind  of  goal, — can  pretend  to  hinder 
a  British  man  from  prosecuting  Literature  to  the  very 
utmost,  and  wringing  the  final  secret  from  her:  "A 
talent  is  in  thee  ;  No  talent  is  in  thee."  To  the 
British  subject  who  fancies  genius  may  be  lodged  in 
him,  this  liberty  remains ;  and  truly  it  is,  if  well 
computed,  almost  the  only  one  he  has. 

A  crowded  portal  this  of  Literature,  accordingly  ! 
The  haven  of  expatriated  spiritualisms,  and  alas  also 
of  expatriated  vanities  and  prurient  imbecilities  :  here 
do  the  windy  aspirations,  foiled  activities,  foolish 
ambitions,  and  frustrate  human  energies  reduced  to  the 
vocable  condition,  fly  as  to  the  one  refuge  left  ;  and 
the  Republic  of  Letters  increases  in  population  at 
a  faster  rate  than  even  the  Republic  of  America. 
The  strangest  regiment  in  her  Majesty's  service,  this 
of  the  Soldiers  of  Literature:  —  would  your  Lord- 
ship much  like  to  march  through  Coventry  with 
them  ?  The  immortal  gods  are  there  (quite  irrecog- 
nizable  under  these  disguises),  and  also  the  lowest 
broken    valets  j  —  an   extremely  miscellaneous  regi- 


244  STUMP-ORATOR. 

ment.  In  fact  the  regiment,  superficially  viewed, 
looks  like  an  immeasurable  motley  flood  of  dis- 
charged playactors,  funambulists,  false  prophets, 
drunken  ballad-singers ;  and  marches  not  as  a 
regiment,  but  as  a  boundless  canaille,  —  without 
drill,  uniform,  captaincy  or  billet  ;  with  huge  over- 
proportion  of  drummers  ;  you  would  say,  a  regi- 
ment gone  wholly  to  the  drum,  with  hardly  a  good 
musket  to  be  seen  in  it, — more  a  canaille  than  a 
regiment.  Canaille  of  all  the  loud-sounding  levities, 
and  general  winnowings  of  Chaos,  marching  through 
the  world  in  a  most  ominous  manner;  proclaiming, 
audibly  if  you  have  ears  :  "  Twelfth  hour  of  the 
Night  ;  ancient  graves  yawning  ;  pale  clammy  Pusey- 
isms  screeching  in  their  winding-sheets  ;  owls  busy 
in  the  City  regions ;  many  goblins  abroad  !  Awake 
ye  living  ;  dream  no  more  ;  arise  to  judgment !  Cha- 
os and  Gehenna  are  broken  loose  ;  the  Devil  with  his 
Bedlams  must  be  flung  in  chains  again,  an.d  the  Last 
of  the  Days  is  about  to  dawn  !  "  Such  is  Literature 
to  the  reflective  soul  at  this  moment. 

But  what  now  concerns  us  most  is  the  circumstance 
that  here  too  the  demand  is.  Vocables,  still  vocables. 
In  all  appointed  courses  of  activity  and  paved  careers 
for  human  genius,  and  in  this  unpaved,  unappointed, 
broadest  career  of  Literature,  broad  way  that  leadeth 
to  destruction  for  so  many,  the  one  duty  laid  upon 
you  is  still,  Talk,  talk.  Talk  well  with  pen  or 
tongue,  and  it  shall  be  well  with  you  ;  do  not  talk 
well,  it  shall  be  ill  with  you.  To  wag  the  tongue 
with  dexterous  acceptability,  there  is  for  human 
worth  and  faculty,  in  our  England  of  the  Nineteenth 


STUMP-OEATOR.  -    245 

Century,  that  one  method  of  emergence  and  no 
other.  Silence,  you  would  say,  means  annihilation 
for  the  Englishman  of  the  Nineteenth  Century.  The 
worth  that  has  not  spoken  itself,  is  not ;  or  is  poten- 
tially only,  as  if  it  were  not.  Vox  is  the  God  of  this 
Universe.  If  you  have  human  intellect,  it  avails 
nothing  unless  you  either  make  it  into  beaverism,  or 
talk  with  it.  Make  it  into  beaverism,  and  gather 
money;  or  else  make  talk  with  it,  and  gather  what  you 
can.  Such  is  everywhere  the  demand  for  talk  among 
us  :  to  which,  of  course,  the  supply  is  proportionate. 
From  dinners  up  to  woolsacks  and  divine  mitres, 
here  in  England,  much  may  be  gathered  by  talk; 
without  talk,  of  the  human  sort  nothing.  Is  Society 
become  wholly  a  bag  of  wind,  then,  balkisted  by 
guineas?  Are  our  interests  in  it  as  a  sounding  brass 
and  a  tinkling  cymbal?  —  In  Army  or  Navy,  when 
unhappily  we  have  war  on  hand,  there  is,  almost 
against  our  will,  some  kind  of  demand  for  certain  of 
the  silent  talents.  But  in  peace,  that  too  passes  into 
mere  demand  of  the  ostentations,  of  the  pipeclays 
and  the  blank  cartridges;  and,  —  except  that  Naval 
men  are  occasionally,  on  long  voyages,  forced  to  hold 
their  tongue,  and  converse  with  the  dumb  elements, 
and  illimitable  oceans,  that  moan  and  rave  there  with- 
out you  and  within  you,  which  is  a  great  advantage  to 
the  Naval  man,  —  our  poor  United  Services  have  to 
make  conversational  windbags  and  ostentational  paper- 
lanterns  of  themselves,  or  do  worse,  even  as  the  others. 

My  friends,  must  I  assert,  then,  what  surely  all  men 
know,  though  all  men  seem  to  have  forgotten  it.  That 
in  the  learned  professions  as  in  the  unlearned,  and  in 
21* 


246  STUr.IP- ORATOR. 

human  things  throughout,  in  every  place  and  in  every 
time,  the  true  function  of  intellect  is  not  that  of  talk- 
ing, but  of  understanding  and  discerning  with  a  view 
to  perfor'ming !  An  intellect  may  easily  talk  too 
much,  and  perform  too  little.  Gradually,  if  it  get 
into  the  noxious  habit  of  talk,  there  will  less  and  less 
performance  come  of  it,  talk  being  so  delightfully 
handy  in  comparison  with  work;  and  at  last  there 
will  no  work,  or  thought  of  work,  be  got  from  it  at 
all.  Talk,  except  as  the  preparation  for  work,  is 
worth  almost  nothing;  —  sometimes  it  is  worth  infi- 
nitely less  than  nothing ;  and  becomes,  little  con- 
scious of  playing  such  a  fatal  part,  the  general  sum- 
mary of  pretentious  nothingnesses,  and  the  chief  of 
all  the  curses  the  Posterity  of  Adam  are  liable  to  in 
this  sublunary  world  !  Would  you  discover  the  Atro- 
pos  of  Human  Virtue*;  the  sure  Destroyer,  'by  pain- 
less extinction,'  of  human  Veracities,  Performances, 
and  Capabilities  to  perform  or  to  be  veracious,  — it  is 
this,  you  have  it  here. 

Unwise  talk  is  matchless  in  unwisdom.  Unwiso 
work,  if  it  but  persist,  is  everywhere  struggling 
towards  correction,  and  restoration  to  health  ;  for  it  is 
still  in  contact  with  Nature,  and  all  Nature  incessantly 
contradicts  it,  and  will  heal  it  or  annihilate  it:  not  so 
with  unwise  talk,  which  addresses  itself,  regardless  of 
veridical  Nature,  to  the  universal  suffrages  ;  and  can 
if  it  be  dexterous,  find  harbor  there  till  all  the  suf- 
frages are  bankrupt  and  gone  to  Houndsditch,  Nature 
not  interfering  with  her  protest  till  then.  False 
speech,  definable  as  the  acme  of  unwise  speech,  is 
capable,  as  we  already  said,  of  becoming  the  falsest 
of  all  things.     Falsest  of  all  things :  —  and  whither 


STUMP-ORATOR.  247 

will  the  general  deluge  of  that,  in  Parliament  and 
Synagoguej  in  Book  and  Broadside,  cany  yon  and 
your  aifairs,  my  friend,  when  once  they  are  embarked 
on  it  as  now  ? 


Parliament,  Paj^Uamentumj  is  by  express  appoint- 
ment the  Talking  Apparatus;  yet  not  in  Parliament 
either  is  the  essential  function,  by  any  means,  talk. 
Not  to  speak  your  opinion  well,  but  to  have -a  good 
and  just  opinion  worth  speaking,  —  for  every  Parlia- 
ment, as  for  every  man,  this  latter  is  the  point.  Con- 
trive to  have  a  true  opinion,  you  will  get  it  told  in 
some  way,  better  or  worse ;  and  it  will  be  a  blessing 
to  all  creatures.  Have  a  false  opinion,  and  tell  it  with 
the  tongue  of  Angels,  what  can  that  profit?  The 
better  you  tell  it,  the  worse  it  will  be ! 

In  Parliament  and  out  of  Parliament,  and  every- 
where in  this  Universe,  your  one  salvation  is,  That 
you  can  discern  with  just  insight,  and  follow  with 
noble  valor,  what  the  law  of  the  case  before  you  is, 
what  the  appointment  of  the  Maker  in  regard  to  it 
has  been.  Get  this  out  of  one  man,  you  are  saved ; 
fail  to  get  this  out  of  the  most  august  Parliament 
wrapt  in  the  sheepskins  of  a  thousand  years,  you  are 
lost, — your  Parliament,  and  you,  and  all  your  sheep- 
skins are  lost.  Beautiful  talk  is  by  no  means  the 
most  pressing  v/ant  in  Parliament!  We  have  had 
some  reasonable  modicum  of  talk  in  Parliament. 
What  talk  has  done  for  us  in  Parliament,  and  is  now 
doing,  the  dullest  of  us  at  length  begins  to  see  ! 


248  STUMP- ORATOR. 

Much  has  been  said  of  Parliament's  breeding  men 
to  business ;  of  the  training  an  Official  Man  gets  in 
this  school  of  argument  and  talk.  He  is  here  inured 
to  patience,  tolerance;  sees  what  is  what  in  tlie  Nation 
and  in  the  Nation's  Government ;  attains  official 
knowledge,  official  courtesy  and  manners;  —  in  short, 
is  polished  at  all  points  into  official  articulation,  and 
here  better  than  elsewhere  qualifies  himself  to  be  a 
Governor  of  men.  So  it  is  said.  — Doubtless,  I  think, 
he  will  see  and  snifer  much  in  Parliament,  and  inure 
himself  to  several  things;  —  he  will,  with  what  eyes 
he  has,  gradually  see  Parliament  itself,  for  one  thing: 
what  a  high-soaring,  helplessly  floundering,  ever  bab- 
bling yet  inarticulate  dark  dumb  Entity  it  is  (certainly 
one  of  the  strangest  under  the  sun  just  now):  which 
doubtless,  if  he  have  in  view  to  get  measures  voted 
there  one  day,  will  be  an  important  acquisition  for 
him.  But  as  to  breeding  himself  for  a  Doer  of  Work, 
much  more  for  a  King,  or  Chief  of  Doers,  here  in 
this  element  of  talk  ;  as  to  that  I  confess  the  fatallest 
doubts,  or  rather  alas  I  have  no  doubt !  Alas,  it  is 
our  fatallest  misery  just  now,  not  easily  alterable,  and 
yet  urgently  requiring  to  be  altered,  Tiiat  no  British 
man  can  attain  to  be  a  Statesman,  or  Chief  of  Work- 
ers, till  he  has  first  proved  himself  a  Chief  of  Talkers  ; 
which  mode  of  trial  for  a  Worker,  is  it  not  precisely 
of  all  the  trials  you  could  set  him  upon,  the  falsest 
and  unfairest? 

Nay,  I  doubt  much  you  are  not  likely  ever  to  meet 
the  fittest  material  for  a  Statesman,  or  Chief  of 
Workers,  in  such  an  element  as  that.  Your  potential 
Chief  of  Workers,  will  he  come  there  at  all,  to  try 


STUMP-ORATOR.  249 

whether  he  can  talk?  Your  poor  tenpound  fran- 
chisers and  electoral  world  generally,  in  love  with 
eloquent  talk,  'are  they  the  likeliest  to  discern  what 
man  it  is  that  has  worlds  of  silent  work  in  him  ?  No. 
Or  is  such  a  man,  even  if  born  in  the  due  rank  for  it, 
the  likeliest  to  present  himself,  and  court  their  most 
sweet  voices?     Again,  no. 

The  Age  thc^t  admires  talk  so  much  can  have  little 
discernment  for  inarticulate  work,  or  for  anything 
that  is  deep  and  genuine.  Nobody,  or  hardly  any- 
body, having  in  himself  an  earnest  sense  for  truth, 
how  can  anybody  recognize  an  inarticulate  Veracity, 
or  Nature-fact  of  any  kind  ;  a  Human  Doer  especially, 
who  is  the  most  complex,  profound,  and  inarticulate 
of  all  Nature's  facts?  Nobody  can  recognize  him: 
till  once  he  is  patented,  get  some  public  stamp  of 
authenticity,  and  has  been  articulately  proclaimed, 
and  asserted  to  be  a  Doer.  To  the  worshipper  of 
talk,  such  a  one  is  a  sealed  book.  An  excellent 
human  soul,  direct  from  Heaven,  —  how  shall  any 
excellence  of  man  become  recognizable  to  this  unfor- 
tunate ?  Not  except  by  announcing  and  placarding 
itself  as  excellent, — which,  I  reckon,  it  above  other 
things  will  probably  be  in  no  great  haste  to  do. 

Wisdom,  the  divine  message  which  every  soul  of 
man  brings  into  this  world  ;  the  divine  prophecy  of 
what  the  new  man  has  got  the  new  and  peculiar 
capability  to  do,  is  intrinsically  of  silent  nature.  It 
cannot  at  once,  or  completely  at  all,  be  read  off  in 
words  ;  for  it  is  written  in  abstruse  facts,  of  endow- 
ment, position,  desire,  opportunity,  granted  to  the 
man ;  —  interprets    itself     in    presentiments,    vague 


250  STUMP-ORATOR. 

Struggles,  passionate  endeavors  ;  and  is  only  legible  in 
whole  when  his  work  is  done.  Not  by  the  noble 
monitions  of  Nature,  but  by  the  ignoble,  is  a  man 
much  tempted  to  publish  the  secret  of  his  soul  in 
words.  Words,  if  he  have  a  secret,  will  be  forever 
inadequate  to  it.  Words  do  but  disturb  the  real 
answer  of  fact  which  could  be  given  to  it ;  distin'b, 
obstruct,  and  will  in  the  end  abolish,  and  render  im- 
possible, said  answer.  No  grand  Doer  in  this  world 
can  be  a  copious  speaker  about  his  doings.  William 
the  Silent  spoke  himself  best  in  a  country  liberated  ; 
Oliver  Cromwell  did  not  shine  in  rhetoric  ;  Goethe, 
when  he  had  but  a  book  in  view,  found  that  he  must 
say  nothing  even  of  that,  if  was  to  succeed  with 
him. 

Then  as  to  politeness,  and  breeding  to  business. 
An  official  man  must  be  bred  to  business ;  of  course 
he  must:  and  not  for  essence  only,  but  even  for  the 
manners  of  office  he  requires  breeding.  Besides  his 
intrinsic  faculty,  whatever  that  may  be,  he  must  be 
cautious,  vigilant,  discreet,  —  above  all  things,  he 
must  be  reticent,  patient,  polite.  Certain  of  these 
qualities  are  by  nature  imposed  upon  men  of  station  ; 
and  they  are  trained  from  birth  to  some  exercise  of 
them  :  tliis  constitutes  their  one  intrinsic  qualification 
for  office; — this  is  their  one  advantage  in  the  New 
Downing  Street  projected  for  this  New  Era;  and  it 
will  not  go  for  much  in  that  Institution.  One  advan- 
tage, or  temporary  advantage;  against  which  there 
are  so  many  counterbalances.  It  is  the  indispensable 
preliminary  for  office,  but  by  no  means  the  complete 
outfit, — a  miserable  outfit  where  there  is  nothing 
farther. 


STUMP- ORATOR.  251 

Will  your  Lordship  give  me  leave  to  say  that,  prac- 
tically, the  intrinsic  qualities  will  presuppose  these 
preliminaries  too,  but  by  no  means  vice  versa.  That, 
on  the  whole,  if  you  have  got  the  intrinsic  qualities, 
you  have  got  everything,  and  the  preliminaries  will 
prove  attainable  ;  but  that  if  you  have  got  only  the 
preliminaries,  you  have  yet  got  nothing.  A  man  of 
real  dignity  will  not  find  it  impossible  to  bear  himself 
in  a  dignified  manner  ;  a  man  of  real  understanding 
and  insight  will  get  to  know,  as  the  fruit  of  his'very 
first  study,  what  the  laws  of  his  situation  are,  and 
will  conform  to  these.  Rough  old  Samuel  Johnson, 
blustering  Boreas  and  rugged  Arctic  Bear  as  he  often 
was,  defined  himself,  justly  withal,  as  a  polite  man  :  a 
noble  manful  attitude  of  soul  is  his  ;  a  clear,  true  and 
loyal  sense  of  what  others  are,  and  what  he  himself 
is,  shines  through  the  rugged  coating  of  him  ;  comes 
out  as  grave  deep  rhythmus  when  his  King  honors 
him,  and  he  will  not  '  bandy  compliments  with  his 
King;  ' — is  traceable  too  in  his  indignant  trampling 
down  of  the  Chesterfield  patronages,  tailor-made  in- 
solences, and  contradictions  of  sinners  ;  which  may  be 
called  his  revoliiliouarij  movements,  hard  and  peremp- 
tory by  the  law  of  them  ;  these  could  not  be  soft  like 
his  constitutional  ones,  when  men  and  kings  took 
him  for  somewhat  like  the  thing  he  was.  Given  a 
noble  man,  I  think  your  Lordship  may  expect  by  and 
by  a  polite  man.  No  '  politer'  man  was  to  be  found 
in  Britain  than  the  rustic  Robert  Burns:  high  duch- 
esses were  captivated  with  the  chivalrous  ways  of  the 
man  ;  recognized  that  here  was  the  true  chivalry,  and 
divnie  nobleness  of   bearing,  —  as  indeed  they  well 


252  RTrTMP-OSATOR. 

might,  now  when  the  Peasant  God  and  Norse  Thor 
had  come  down  among  them  again  !  Ciiivah-y  this, 
if  not  as  they  do  chivalry  in  Drury  Lane  or  West- 
End  drawing  rooms,  yet  as  they  do  it  in  Valhalla  and 
the  General  Assembly  of  the  Gods. 

For  indeed,  who  inve7ited  chivalry,  politeness,  or 
anything  that  is  noble  and  melodious  and  beautiful 
among  us,  except  precisely  the  like  of  Johnson  and 
of  Burns  ?  The  select  few  who  in  the  generations 
of  this  world  were  wise  and  valiant,  they  in  spite 
of  all  the  tremendous  majority  of  blockheads  and 
slothful  belly-worshippers,  and  noisy  ugly  persons, 
have  devised  whatsoever  is  noble  in  the  manners  of 
man  to  man.  I  expect  they  will  learn  to  be  polite, 
your  Lordship,  when  you  give  them  a  chance  !  — 
Nor  is  it  as  a  school  of  human  culture,  for  this  or  for 
any  other  grace  or  gift,  that  Parliament  will  be  found 
first-rate  or  indispensable.  As  experience  in  the  river 
is  indispensable  to  the  ferryman,  so  is  knowledge  of 
his  Parliament  to  the  British  Peel  or  Chatham  ;  —  so 
was  knowledge  of  the  CEil-de-Boeuf  to  the  French 
Choiseul.  Where  and  how  said  river,  whether  Par- 
liament with  Wilkeses  or  (Eil-de-Boeuf  with  Pompa- 
dours, can  be  waded,  boated,  swum  ;  how  the  miscel- 
laneous cargoes,  'measures,'  so-called,  can  be  got 
across  it,  according  to  their  kinds,  and  landed  alive 
on  the  hither  side  as  facts  :  —  we  have  all  of  us  our 
ferries  in  this  world  ;  and  must  know  the  river  and 
its  ways,  or  get  drowned  some  day  !  In  that  sense, 
practice  in  Parliament  is  indispensable  to  the  British 
Statesman  ;  but  not  in  any  other  sense. 

A   school;  too,  of  manners   and  of  several  other 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


253 


things,  the  Parliament  will  doubtless  be  to  the  aspi- 
rant Statesman  ;  a  school  better  or  worse  ;  —  as  the 
CEil-de-Boeuf  likewise  was,  and  as  all  scenes  where 
men  work  or  live  are  sure  to  be.  Especially  where 
many  men  work  together,  the  very  rubbing  against 
one  another  will  grind  and  polish  off  their  angularities 
into  roundness,  into  '  politeness '  after  a  sort  ;  and  the 
official  man,  place  him  how  you  may,  will  never  want 
for  schooling,  of  extremely  various  kinds.  A  first- 
rate  school  one  cannot  call  this  Parliament  for  him  ; 
—  I  fear  to  say  what  rate  at  present  !  In  so  far  as  it 
teaches  him  vigilance,  patience,  courage,  toughness 
of  lungs  or  of  soul,  and  skill  in  any  kind  of  swim- 
ming, it  is  a  good  school.  In  so  far  as  it  forces  him 
to  speak  where  Nature  orders  silence  ;  and  even,  lest 
all  the  world  should  learn  his  secret  (which  often 
enough  would  kill  his  secret,  and  little  profit  the 
world),  forces  him  to  speak  falsities,  vague  ambigui- 
ties, and  the  froth-dialect  usual  in  Parliaments  in  these 
times,  it  may  be  considered  one  of  the  worst,  schools 
ever  devised  by  man  ;  and,  I  think,  may  almost  chal- 
lenge the  CEil-de-Boeuf  to  match  it  in  badness. 

Parliament  will  train  your  men  to  the  manners  re- 
quired of  a  statesman  ;  but  in  a  much  less  degree  to 
the  intrinsic  functions  of  one.  To  these  latter,  it  is 
capable  of  m/straining  as  nothing  else  can.  Parlia- 
ment will  train  you  to  talk  ;  and  above  all  things  to 
hear,  with  patience,  unlimited  quantities  of  foolish 
talk.  To  tell  a  good  story  for  yourself,  and  to  make 
it  appear  that  you  have  done  your  work  :  this,  espe- 
cially in  constitutional  countries,  is  something;  —  and 
yet  in  all  countries,  constitutional  ones  too,  it  is  in- 
22 


254  STUMP-ORATOR. 

trinsically  nothing,  probably  even  less.  For  it  is  not 
the  function  of  any  mortal,  in  Downing  Street  or 
elsewhere  here  below,  to  wag  the  tongue  of  him,  and 
make  it  appear  that  he  has  done  work  :  but  to  wag 
some  quite  other  organs  of  him,  and  to  do  work  ; 
there  is  no  danger  of  his  work's  appearing  by  and  by. 
Such  an  accomplishment,  even  in  constitutional  coun- 
tries, I  grieve  to  say,  may  become  much  less  than 
nothing.  Have  you  at  all  computed  how  much  less  ? 
The  human  creature  who  has  once  given  way  to  sat- 
isfying himself  with  'appearances,'  to  seeking  his 
salvation  in  'appearances,'  the  moral  life  of  such 
human  creature  is  rapidly  bleeding  out  of  him.  De~ 
pend  upon  it,  Beelzebub,  Satan,  or  however  you  may 
name  the  too  authentic  Genius  of  Eternal  Death,  has 
got  that  human  creature  in  his  claws.  By  and  by 
you  will  have  a  dead  parliamentary  bagpipe,  and  your 
living  man  fled  away  without  return  ! 

Such  parliamentary  bagpipes  I  myself  have  heard 
play  tunes,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  people. 
E\^ery  tune  lies  within  their  compass  ;  and  their  mind 
(for  they  still  call  it  mind)  is  ready  as  a  hurdygurdy 
on  turning  of  the  handle:   "My  Lords,  this  question 

now  before  the  House  " Ye  Heavens,  O  ye  divine 

Silences,  was  there  in  the  womb  of  Chaos,  then,  such 
a  product,  liable  to  be  evoked  by  human  art,  as  that 
same  ?  While  the  galleries  were  all  applausive  of 
heart,  and  the  Fourth  Estate  looked  with  eyes  en- 
lightened, as  if  you  had  touched  its  lips  with  a  staff 
dipped  in  honey,  —  I  have  sat  with  reflections  too 
ghastly  to  he  uttered.  A  poor  human  creature  and 
learned   friend,  once    possessed    of  many  fine    gifts, 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


255 


possessed  of  intellect,  veracity,  and  manful  conviction 
on  a  variety  of  objects,  has  he  now  lost  all  that  ;  — 
^converted  all  that  into  a  glistering  phosphorescence 
which  can  show  itself  on  the  outside  ;  while  within, 
all  is  dead,  chaotic,  dark  ;  a  painted  sepulchre  full  of 
dead  men's  bones  !  Discernment,  knowledge,  intel- 
lect, in  the  human  sense  of  the  words,  this  man  has 
now  none.  His  opinion  you  do  not  ask  on  any  mat- 
ter:  on  the  matter  he  has  no  opinion,  judgment,  or 
insight ;  only  on  what  may  be  said  about  the  matter, 
how  it  may  be  argued  of,  what  tune  may  be  played 
upon  it  to  enlighten  the  eyes  of  the  Fourth  Estate. 

Such  a  soul,  though  to  the  eye  he  still  keeps  tum- 
bling about  in  the  Parliamentary  element,  and  makes 
'motions,'  and  passes  bills,  for  aught  I  kiiow,  —  are 
we  to  define  him  as  a  livinf^  one,  or  as  a  dead  ?  Par- 
tridge the  Almanac-maker,  whose  '  publications '  still 
regularly  appear,  is  known  to  be  dead  !  The  dog 
that  was  drowned  last  summer,  and  that  floats  up  and 
down  the  Thames  with  ebb  and  flood  ever  since, — 
is  it  not  dead  ?  Alas,  in  the  hot  months,  you  meet 
here  and  there  such  a  floating  dog  ;  and  at  length,  if 
you  often  use  the  river  steamers,  get  to  know  him  by 
sight.  "  There  he  is  again,  still  astir  there  in  his  quasi- 
stygian  element !  "  you  dejectedly  exclaim  (perhaps 
reading  your  Morning  Newspaper  at  the  moment); 
and  reflect,  with  a  painful  oppression  of  nose  and 
imagination,  on  certain  completed  professors  of  par- 
liamentary eloquence  in  modern  times.  Dead  long 
since,  but  not  resting  ;  daily  doing  motions  in  that 
Westminster  region  still,  —  daily  from  Yauxhall  to 
Blackfriars,  and  back  again ;  and  cannot  get  away  at 


256  STUMP-ORATOR. 

all  !  Daily  (from  Newspaper  or  river  steamer)  you 
may  see  him  at  some  point  of  his  fated  course,  hover- 
ing ill  the  eddies,  stranded  in  the  ooze,  or  rapidly 
progressing  with  flood  or  ebb  ;  and  daily  the  odor  of 
him  is  getting  more  intolerable  ;  daily  the  condition 
of  him  appeals  more  tragically  to  gods  and  men. 


Nature  admits  no  lie  ;  most  men  profess  to  be 
aware  of  this,  but  few  in  any  measure  lay  it  to  heart. 
Except  in  the  departments  of  mere  material  manipu- 
lation, it  seems  to  be  taken  practically  as  if  this  grand 
truth  were  merely  a  polite  flourish  of  rhetoric.  What 
is  a  lie  ?  The  question  is  worth  asking,  once  and 
away,  by  the  practical  English  mind. 

A  voluntary  spoken  divergence  from  the  fact  as  it 
stands,  as  it  has  occurred  and  will  proceed  to  develop 
itself:  this  clearly,  if  adopted  by  any  man,  will  so  far 
forth  mislead  him  in  all  practical  dealing  with  the 
fact  ;  till  he  cast  that  statement  out  of  him,  and  re- 
ject it  as  an  unclean  poisonous  thing,  he  can  have  no 
success  in  dealing  v/ith  the  fact.  If  such  spoken 
divergence  from  the  truth  be  involuntary,  we  lament 
it  as  a  misfortune  ;  and  are  entitled,  at  least  the 
speaker  of  it  is,  to  lament  it  extremely  as  the  most 
palpable  of  aU  misfortunes,  as  the  indubitablest  losing 
of  his  way,  and  turning  aside  from  the  goal  instead 
of  pressing  towards  it,  in  the  race  set  before  him.  If 
the  divergence  is  voluntary,  —  there  superadds  itself 
to  our  sorrow  a  just  indignation:  we  call  the  volun- 
tary spoken  divergence  a  lie,  and  justly  abhor  it  as  the 
essence  of  human  treason  and  baseness,  the  desertion 


STUMP-ORATOR.  25 

of  a  man  to  the  Enemy  of  men  against  himself  an(' 
his  brethren.  A  lost  deserter;  who  has  gone  over  to 
the  Enemy,  called  Satan  ;  and  cannot  hut  be  lost  ip 
the  adventure  !  Such  is  every  liar  with  the  tongne  ; 
and  snch  in  all  nations  is  he,  at  all  epochs,  considered. 
Men  pnll  his  nose,  and  kick  him  ont  of  doors  ;  and 
by  peremptory  expressive  methods  signify  that  they 
can  and  will  have  no  trade  with  him.  Snch  is  spoken 
divergence  from  the  fact ;  so  fares  it  with  the  prac- 
tiser  of  that  sad  art. 

But  have  we  well  considered  a  divergence  in 
thought  from  what  is  the  fact?  Have  we  considered 
the  man  whose  very  thought  is  a  lie  to  him  and  to 
ns  !  He  too  is  a  frightful  man  ;  repeating  abont  this 
Universe  on  every  hand  what  is  not,  and  driven  to 
repeat  it;  the  sure  herald  of  ruin  to  all  that  follow 
him,  that  know  with  his  knowledge  !  And  would 
you  learn  how  to  get  a  mendacious  thought,  there  is 
no  surer  recipe  than  carrying  a  loose  tongue.  The 
lying  thought,  you  already  either  have  it,  or  will  soon 
get  it  by  that  method.  He  who  lies  with  his  very 
tongue,  he  clearly  enough  -has  long  ceased  to  think 
truly  in  his  mind.  Does  he,  in  any  sense,  'think?' 
All  his  thoughts  and  imaginations,  if  they  extend 
beyond  mere  beaverisms,  astucities  and  sensualisms, 
are  false,  incomplete,  perverse,  untrue  even  to  himself. 
He  has  become  a  false  mirror  of  this  Universe  ;  not  a 
small  mirror  only,  but  a  crooked,  bedimmed  and 
utterly  deranged  one.  But  all  loose  tongues  too  are 
akin  to  lying  ones;  are  insincere  at  the  best,  and  go 
rattling  with  little  meaning  ;  the  thought  lying  lan- 
guid at  a  great  distance  behind  them,  if  thought  there 
22* 


STUMP-ORATOR. 

be  behind  them  at  all.  Gradually  there  will  be  none 
or  little  !  How  can  the  thought  of  such  a  man,  what 
he  calls  thought,  be  other  than  false  ? 

Alas,  the  palpable  liar  with  his  tongue  does  at  least 
know  that  he  is  lying,  and  has  or  might  have  some 
faint  vestige  of  remorse  and  chajice  of  amendment ; 
but  the  impalpable  liar,  whose  tongue  articulates  mere 
accepted  commonplaces,  cants  and  babblement,  which 
means  only  "  Admire  m.e,  call  me  an  excellent  stump- 
orator!  "  — of  him  what  hope  is  there  ?  His  thought, 
what  thought  he  had,  lies  dormant,  inspired  only  to 
invent  vocables  and  plausibilities;  while  the  tongue 
goes  so  glib,  the  thought  is  absent,  gone  a-woolgather- 
ing ;  getting  itself  drugged  with  the  applausive 
'Hear,  hear!'  —  what  will  become  of  such  a  man? 
His  idle  thought  has  run  all  to  seed,  and  grown  false 
and  the  giver  of  falsities;  the  inner  light  of  his  mind 
is  gone  out ;  all  his  light  is  mere  putridity  and  phos- 
phorescence henceforth.  Whatsoever  is  in  quest  of 
ruin,  let  him  with  assurance  follow  that  man  ;  he  or 
no  one  is  on  the  right  road  to  it. 

Good  Heavens,  from  the  wisest  Thought  of  a  man 
to  the  actual  truth  of  a  Thing  as  it  lies  in  Nature, 
there  is,  one  would  suppose,  a  sufficient  interval  ! 
Consider  it,  —  aud  what  other  intervals  we  introduce  ! 
The  faithfullest,  most  glowing  word  of  a  man  is  but 
an  imperfect  image  of  the  thought,  such  as  it  is,  that 
dwells  within  him  ;  his  best  word  will  never  but  with 
error  convey  his  thought  to  other  minds  :  and  then 
between  Jiis  poor  thought  and  Nature's  Fact,  which 
is  the  Thought  of  the  Eternal,  there  may  be  supposed 
to  lie  some  discrepancies,  some  shortcomings  !     Speak 


STUMP-ORATOR. 


259 


your  sincerest,  think  your  wisest,  there  is  still  a  great 
gulf  between  yon  and  the  fact.  And  now,  do  not 
speak  your  sincerest,  and,  what  will  inevitably  follow 
out  of  that,  do  not  think  your  wisest,  but  think  only 
your  plausiblest,  your  showiest  for  parliamentary  pur- 
poses, where  will  you  land  with  that  guidance?  —  I 
invite  the  British  Parliament,  and  all  the  Parliament- 
ary and  other  Electors  of  Great  Britain,  to  reflect  on 
this  till  they  have  well  understood  it ;  and  then  to 
ask,  each  of  himself,  What  probably  the  horoscopes 
of  the  British  Parliament,  at  this  epoch  of  World- 
History,  may  be  ?  — 

Fail,  by  any  sin  or  any  misfortune,  to  discover 
what  the  truth  of  the  fact  is,  you  are  lost  so  far  as 
that  fact  goes !  If  your  thought  do  not  image  truly 
but  do  image  falsely  the  fact,  you  will  vainly  try  to 
v/ork  upon  the  fact.  The  fact  will  not  obey  you,  the 
fact  will  silently  resist  you  ;  and  ever,  with  silent  in- 
vincibility, will  go  on  resisting  you,  till  you  do  get  to 
image  it  truly  instead  of  falsely.  No  help  for  you 
whtitever,  except  in  attaining  to  a  true  image  of  the 
fact.  Needless  to  vote  a  false  image  true  ;  vote  it, 
revote  it  by  overwhelming  majorities,  by  jubilant 
unanimities  and  universalities ;  read  it  thrice  or  three 
hundred  times,  pass  acts  of  parliament  upon  it  till  the 
Statute-book  can  hold  no  more,  —  it  helps  not  a  whit : 
the  thing  is  not  so,  the  thing  is  otherwise  than  so  ; 
and  Adam's  whole  Posterity,  voting  daily  on  it  till 
the  world  finish,  will  not  alter  it  a  jot.  Can  the  sub- 
limest  sanhedrim,  constitutional  parliament,  or  other 
Collective  Wisdom  of  the  world,  persuade  fire  not  to 
burn,  sulphuric  acid  to  be  sweet  milk,  or  the  Moon  to 


260  STUMP-ORATOR. 

become  green  cheese?  The  fact  is  much  the  re- 
verse : —  and  even  the  Constitutional  British  Parlia- 
ment abstains  from  such  arduous  attempts  as  tliese 
latter  in  the  voting  line;  and  leaves  the  multiplica- 
tion-table, the  chemical,  mechanical  and  other  quali- 
ties of  material  substances  to  take  their  own  course ; 
being  aware  that  voting  and  perorating,  and  reporting 
in  Hansard,  will  not  in  the  least  alter  any  of  these. 
Which  is  indisputably  wise  of  the  British  Parlia- 
ment. 

Unfortunately  the  British  Parliament  does  not,  at 
present,  quite  know  that  all  manner  of  things  and  re- 
lations of  things,  spiritual  equally  with  material,  all 
manner  of  qualities,  entities,  existences  whatsoever,  in 
this  strange  visible  and  invisible  Universe,  are  equally 
inflexible  of  nature  ;  that  they  vv^ill,  one  and  all,  with 
precisely  the  same  obstinacy,  continue  to  obey  their 
own  law,  not  our  law ;  deaf  as  the  adder  to  all  charm 
of  parliamentary  eloquence,  and  of  voting  never  so 
often  repeated ;  silently,  but  inflexibly  and  forever- 
more,  declining  to  change  themselves,  even  as  sulphu- 
ric acid  declines  to  become  sweet  milk,  though  you 
vote  so  to  the  end  of  the  world.  This,  it  sometimes 
seems  to  me,  is  not  quite  sufiiciently  laid  hold  of  by 
the  British  and  other  Parliaments  just  at  present. 
Which  surely  is  a  great  misfortune  to  said  Parliaments! 
For,  it  would  appear,  the  grand  point,  after  all  consti- 
tutional improvements,  and  such  wagging  of  wigs  in 
Westminster  as  there  has  been,  is  precisely  what  it 
was  before  any  constitution  was  yet  heard  of,  or  the 
first  official  whig  had  budded  out  of  nothing  :  namely, 
to  ascertain  what  the  truth  of  your  question,  in  Nature, 


STUMP-ORATOR.  261 

real.yis!  Yerily  so.  In  this  time  and  place,  as  in  all 
past  and  in  all  future  times  and  places.  To-day  in 
St.  Stephen's,  where  constitutional,  philanthropical, 
and  other  great  things  lie  in  the  mortarkit ;  even  as 
on  the  Plain  of  Shinar  long  ago,  where  a  certain 
Tower,  likewise  of  a  very  philanthropic  nature,  indeed 
one  of  the  desirablest  towers  I  ever  heard  of,  was  to 
be  built,  —  but  couldn't !  My  friends,  I  do  not  laugh  ; 
truly  I  am  more  inclined  to  weep. 

Get,  by  six-hundred  and  fifty-eight  votes,  or  by  no 
vote  at  all,  by  the  silent  intimation  of  your  own  eye- 
sight and  understanding  given  you  direct  out  of  Heav- 
en, and  more  sacred  to  you  than  any  thing  earthly, 
and  than  all  things  earthly,  —  a  correct  image  of  the 
fact  in  question,  as  God  and  Nature  have  made  it:  that 
is  the  one  thing  needful  ;  with  that  it  shall  be  well 
with  you  in  whatsoever  you  have  to  do  with  said  fact. 
Get,  by  the  sublimest  constitutional  methods,  belauded 
by  all  the  world,  an  incorrect  image  of  the  fact :  so 
shall  it  be  other  than  well  with  you ;  so  shall  you 
have  laud  from  able-editors  and  vociferous  masses  of 
mistaken  human  creatures ;  and  from  the  Nature's 
Fact,  continuing  quite  silently  the  same  as  it  was, 
contradiction,  and  that  only.  What  else?  Will 
Nature  change,  or  sulphuric  acid  become  sweet  milk, 
for  the  noise  of  vociferous  blockheads?  Sm*ely  not. 
Nature,  I  assure  you,  has  not  the  smallest  intention  of 
doing  so. 

On  the  contrary.  Nature  keeps  silently  a  most  exact 
Savings-bank,  and  official  register  correct  to  the  most 
evanescent  item,  Debtor  and  Creditor,  in  respect  to 
sue  and  all  of  us  j  silently  marks  down,  Creditor  by 


262  STTJMP-ORATOR. 

such  and  such  an  unseen  act  of  veracity  and  heroism  , 
Debtor  to  such  a  loud  bhistery  bhuider,  twenty-seven 
million  strong  or  one  unit  strong,  and  to  all  acts  and 
words  and  thoughts  executed  in  consequence  of  that, 
—  Debtor,  Debtor,  Debtor,  day  after  day,  rigorously 
as  Fate  (for  this  is  Fate  that  is  writing);  and  at  the 
end  of  the  account  you  will  have  it  all  to  pay,  my 
friend;  there  is  the  rub!  Not  the  infinitesimallest 
fraction  of  a  farthing  but  will  be  found  marked  there, 
for  you  and  against  you  ;  and  with  the  due  rate  of 
interest  you  will  have  to  pay  it,  neatly,  completely,  as 
sure  as  you  are  alive.  You  will  have  to  pay  it  even 
in  money  if  you  live  :  —  and,  poor  slave,  do  you  think 
there  is  no  payment  but  in  money  ?  There  is  a  pay- 
ment which  Nature  rigorously  exacts  of  men,  and  also 
of  Nations,  and  this  I  think  when  her  wrath  is  stern- 
est, in  the  shape  of  dooming  you  to  possess  money. 
To  possess  it  ;  to  have  your  bloated  vanities  fostered 
into  monstrosity  by  it,  your  foul  passions  blown  into 
explosion  by  it,  your  heart  and  perhaps  your  very 
stomach  mined  with  intoxication  by  it  ;  your  poor 
life  and  all  its  manful  activities  stunned  into  frenzy 
and  comatose  sleep  by  it,  —  in  one  word,  as  the  old 
Prophets  said,  your  soul  forever  lost  by  it.  Your  soul ; 
so  that,  through  the  Eternities,  you  shall  have  no  soul, 
or  manful  trace  of  ever  having  had  a  soul ;  but  only, 
for  certain  fleeting  moments,  shall  have  had  a  money- 
bag, and  have  given  soul  and  heart  and  (frightful ler 
still)  stomach  itself  in  fatal  exchange  for  the  same. 
You  wretched  mortal,  stumbling  about  in  a  God's 
Temple,  and  thinking  it  a  brutal  Cookery-shop ! 
Nature,  when  her  scorn  of  a  slave  is  divinest,  and 


STUMP-OKATOR. 


253 


blazes  like  the  blinding  lightning  against  his  slave- 
hood,  often  enough  flings  hiin  a  bag  of  mon^y, 
silently  saying:  "That!  Away;  thy  doom  is 
that!"  — 

For  no  man,  and  for  no  body  or  biggest  multitude 
of  men,  has  Nature  favor,  if  they  part  company  with 
her  facts  and  her.  Excellent  stump-orator  ;  eloquent 
parliamentary  dead-dog,  making  motions,  passing  bills ; 
reported  in  the  morning  Newspapers,  and  reputed  the 
'  best  speaker  going  ? '  From  the  Universe  of  Fact  he 
has  turned  himself  away  ;  he  is  gone  into  partnership 
with  the  Universe  of  Phantasm  ;  finds  it  profitablest 
to  deal  in  forged-notes,  while  the  foolish  shopkeepers 
will  accept  them.  Nature  for  such  a  man,  and  for 
Nations  that  follow  such,  has  her  patibulary  forks,  and 
prisons  of  death  everlasting:  —  dost  thou  doubt  it? 
Unhappy  mortal.  Nature  otherwise  were  herself  a 
Chaos  and  no  Cosmos.  Nature  was  not  made  by  an 
Impostor  ;  not  she,  I  think,  rife  as  they  are  !  —  In  fact, 
by  money  or  otherwise,  to  the  uttermost  fraction  of  a 
calculable  and  incalculable  value,  we  have,  each  one 
of  us,  to  settle  the  exact  balance  in  the  abcvesaid 
Savings-bank,  or  official  register  kept  by  Nature  : 
Creditor  by  the  quantity  of  veracities  we  have  done, 
Debtor  by  the  quantity  of  falsities  and  errors ;  there 
is  not,  by  any  conceivable  device,  the  faintest  hope 
of  escape  from  that  issue  for  one  of  us,  nor  for  all 
of  us. 

This  used  to  be  a  well-known  fact  ;  and  daily  still, 
in  certain  edifices,  steeple-houses,  joss-houses,  temples 
sacred  or  other,  everywhere  spread  over  the  world,  we 
hear  some  dim  mumblenient  of  an  assertion  that  such 


-264  STUMP-ORATOR. 

is  still,  what  it  was  always  and  will  forever  be,  the 
fact :  but  meseems  it  has  terribly  fallen  out  of  memory 
nevertheless;  and,  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  one  in  vain 
looks  out  for  a  man  that  really  in  his  heart  believes  it. 
In  his  heart  he  believes,  as  we  perceive,  that  scrip  will 
yield  dividends  :  but  that  Heaven  too  has  an  office  of 
account,  and  unerringly  marks  down,  against  us  or 
for  us,  whatsoever  thing  we  do  or  say  or  think,  and 
treasures  up  the  same  in  regard  to  every  creature, — 
this  I  do  not  so  well  perceive  that  he  believes.  Poor 
blockhead,  no  :  he  reckons  that  all  payment  is  in 
money,  or  approximately  representable  by  money  ; 
finds  money  go  a  strange  course  ;  disbelieves  the  par- 
son and  his  Day  of  Judgment  ;  discerns  not  that  there 
is  any  judgment  except  in  the  small  or  big  debt  court  ; 
and  lives  (for  the  present)  on  that  strange  footing  in 
this  Universe.  The  unhappy  mortal,  what  is  the  use 
of  his  'civilizations'  and  his  'useful  knowledges,'  if 
he  have  forgotten  that  beginning  of  human  knowl- 
edge ;  the  earliest  perception  of  the  awakened  human 
soul  in  this  world  ;  the  first  dictate  of  Heaven's  in- 
spiration to  all  men?  I  cannot  account  him  a  man 
any  more  ;  but  only  a  kind  of  human  beaver,  who  has 
acquired  the  art  of  ciphering.  He  lives  without  rush- 
ing hourly  towards  suicide,  because  his  soul,  with  all 
its  noble  aspirations  and  imaginations,  is  sunk  at  the 
bottom  of  his  stomach,  and  lies  torpid  there,  unaspir- 
ing, unimagining,  unconsidering,  as  if  it  were  the 
vital  principle  of  a  mere  /owrfooted  beaver.  A  soul 
of  a  man,  appointed  for  spinning  cotton  and  making 
money,  or  alas  for  merely  shooting  grouse  and  gather- 
ing rent ;  to  whom  Eternity  and  Immortality,  and  all 


STUMP-ORATOR.  265 

human  Noblenesses,  and  divine  Facts  that  did  not  tell 
upon  the  stock-exchange,  were  meaningless  fables, 
empty  as  the  inarticulate  wind.  He  will  recover  out 
of  that  persuasion  one  day,  or  be  ground  to  powder.  I 
believe  !  — 

To  such  a  pass,  by  our  beaverisms  and  our  mam- 
monisms  ;  by  canting  of  'prevenient  grace'  every- 
where, and  so  boarding  and  lodging  our  poor  souls 
upon  supervenient  moonshine  everywhere,  for  cen- 
turies long  ;  by  our  sordid  stupidities  and  our  idle 
babblings;  through  faith  in  the  divine  Stump-Orator, 
and  Constitutional  Palaver,  or  august  Sanhedrim  of 
Orators,  —  have  men  and  Nations  been  reduced,  in 
this  sad  epoch  !  I  cannot  call  them  happy  Nations; 
I  must  call  them  Nations  like  to  perish  ;  Nations  that 
will  either  begin  to  recover,  or  else  soon  die.  Re- 
covery is  to  be  hoped  ;  —  yes,  since  there  is  in  Nature 
an  Almighty  Beneficence,  and  His  voice,  divinely 
terrible,  can  be  heard  in  the  world-whirlwind  now, 
even  as  from  of  old  and  forevermore.  Recovery,  or 
else  destruction  and  annihilation,  is  very  certain  ;  and 
the  crisis,  too,  comes  rapidly  on  :  but  by  Stump- 
Orator  and  Constitutional  Palaver,  however  perfected, 
my  hopes  of  recovery  have  long  vanished.  Not  by 
them,  I  should  imagine,  but  by  something  far  the 
/^reverse  of  them,  shall  we  return  to  truth  and  God  !  — 
I  tell  you,  the  ignoble  intellect  cannot  think  the 
truth,  even  within  its  own  limits,  and  when  it  seriously 
tries  !  And  of  the  ignoble  intellect  that  does  not 
seriously  try,  and  has  even  reached  the  '  ignobleness' 
of  seriously  trying  the  reverse,  and  of  lying  with  its 
very  tongue,  what  are  we  to  expect  ?  It  is  frightful 
23 


2GQ  STUMP-ORATOR. 

to  consider.  Sincere  wise  speech  is  but  an  imperfect 
corollary,  and  insignificant  onter  manifestation,  of 
sincere  wise  thongiit.  He  whose  very  tongue  utters 
falsities,  what  has  his  heart  long  been  doing  ?  The 
thought  of  his  heart  is  not  its  wisest,  not  even  its 
wisest;  it  is  its  foolishest ;  —  and  even  of  that  we 
have  a  false  and  fooHsh  copy.  And  it  is  Nature's 
Fact,  or  the  Thought  of  the  Eternal,  which  we  Avant 
to  arrive  at  in  regard  to  the  matter,  —  which  if  we  do 
not  arrive  at,  we  shall  not  save  the  matter,  we  shall 
drive  the  matter  into  shipwreck  ! 

The  practice  of  modern  Parliaments,  with  reporters 
sitting  among  them,  and  twenty-seven  millions  most- 
ly fools  listening  to  them,  fills  me  with  amazement. 
In  regard  to  no  thing,  or  fact  as  God  and  Nature  iiave 
made  it,  can  you  get  so  much  as  the  real  thought  of 
any  honorable  head,  —  even  so  far  as  it,  the  said  honor- 
able head,  still  has  capacity  of  thought.  What  the  hon- 
orable gentleman's  wisest  thought  is  or  would  hav^e 
been,  had  he  led  from  birth  a  life  of  piety  and  ear- 
nest veracity  and  heroic  virtue,  you,  and  he  himself 
poor  deep-sunk  creature,  vainly  conjecture  as  from 
immense  dim  distances,  far  in  the  rear  of  what  he  is 
led  to  sai/.  And  again,  far  in  the  rear  of  what  his 
thought  is, — surely  long  infinitudes  beyond  all  /le 
could  ever  think, — lies  the  Thought  of  God  Al- 
mighty, the  Image  itself  of  the  Fact,  the  thing  you 
are  in  quest  of,  and  must  find  or  do  worse  !  Even 
his,  the  honorable  gentleman's,  actual  bewildered, 
falsified,  vague  surmise  or  quasi-thought,  even  this 
is  not  given  you  ;  but  only  some  falsified  copy  of  this, 
such  as  he  fancies  may  suit  the  reporters  and  twenty- 


fcTur-ir-cRATcrv.  267 

seven  millions  mostly  fools.  And  upon  that  latter 
yon  are  to  act  ; with  what  success,  do  you  ex- 
pect ?  That  is  the  thought  yo'j  are  to  take  for  the 
Thought  of  the  Eternal  ]Mind,  — that  double-distilled 
falsity  of  a  blockheadisni  from  one  who  is  false 
even  as  a  blockhead  ! 

Do  I  make  myself  plain  to  Mr.  Peter's  understand- 
ing ?  Perhaps  it  will  surprise  him  less  that  parlia- 
mentary eloquence  excites  more  wonder  than  admira- 
tion in  me  ;  that  the  fate  of  countries  governed  by 
that  sublime  alchemy  does  not  appear  the  hopefullest 
just  now.  Not  by  that  method,  I  should  apprehend, 
will  the  Heavens  be  scaled  and  the  Earth  vanquished  ; 
not  by  that,  but  by  another. 

A  benevolent  man  once  proposed  to  me,  but  with- 
out  pointing  out  the  methods  how,  this  plan  of 
reform  for  our  benighted  world  :  To  cut  from  one 
generation,  whether  the  current  one  or  the  next,  all 
the  tougues  away,  prohibiting  Literature  too  ;  and 
appoint  a^  least  one  generation  to  pass  its  life  in 
silence.  ''  There,  thou  one  blessed  generation,  from 
the  vain  jargon  of  babble  thou  art  beneficently  freed. 
Whatsoever  of  truth,  traditionary  or  original,  thy 
own  god-given  intellect  shall  point  out  to  thee  as 
true,  that  thou  Avilt  go  and  do.  In  doiug  of  it  there 
will  be  a  verdict  for  thee  ;  if  a  verdict  of  True,  thou 
wilt  hold  by  it,  and  ever  again  do  it ;  if  of  Untrue, 
thou  wilt  never  try  it  more,  but  be  eternally  delivered 
from  it.  To  do  aught  because  the  vain  hearsays 
order  thee,  and  the  big  clamors  of  the  sanhedrim  of 
fools,  is  not    thy    lot,  —  what    worlds   of  misery  are 


■p-rtr>  J  •^OT?. 


23S  srL-.iP-o 

spared  thee  !  Nature's  voice  heard  '.n  thy  own  inner 
beiiis.  and  the  sacred  Conimandnient  of  thy  Maker: 
these  shall  be  thy  guidances,  thou  happy  tongueless 
generation.  What  is  good  and  beautiful  thou  shalt 
know  ;  not  merely  what  is  said  to  be  so.  Not  to 
talk  of  "by  doings,  and  become  tlie  envy  of  sur- 
rounding flunkeys,  but  to  taste  of  the  fruit  of  thy 
doings  themselves,  is  thine.  What  the  Eternal 
Laws  wiU  sanction  for  thee,  do  ;  what  the  Froth 
Gospels  and  multitudinous  long-eared  Hearsays  never 
so  loudly  bid,  all  this  is  already  chaff  for  thee,  — 
drifting  rapidly  along,  thou  knowest  whitherward,  on 
the  eternal  winds." 

Good  Heavens,  if  such  a  plan  were  practicable,  how 
the  chaff  might  be  winnowed  out  of  every  man,  and 
out  of  ail  human  things;  and  ninety-nine  hundredths 
of  our  whole  big  universe,  spiritual  and  practical, 
might  blow  itself  av/ay,  as  mere  torrents  of  chaff ;  — 
whole  trade-winds  of  chaff,  many  miles  deep,  rushing 
continually  with  the  voice  of  whirlwinds  towards  a 
certain  Fire,  which  knows  how  to  deal  with  it ! 
Ninety-nine  hundredths  blown  away ;  all  the  lies 
blown  away,  and  some  skeleton  of  a  spiritual  and 
practical  universe  left  standitig  for  us  which  were 
true  :  O  Heavens,  is  it  forever  impossible,  then  ?  By 
a  generation  that  had  no  tongue  it  really  might  be 
done  ;  but  not  so  easily  by  one  that  had.  Tongues, 
platforms,  parliaments,  and  fourth  estates  ;  unfettered 
presses,  periodical  and  stationary  literatures  :  we  are 
nearly  all  gone  to  tongue,  I  think;  and  our  fate  is 
very  questionable 


STUMP-ORATOR.  239 

Truly,  it  is  little  known  at  present,  and  ought 
forthwith  to  become  better  known,  wliat  ruin  to  all 
nobleness  and  fruitfulness  and  blessedness  in  the 
genuis  of  a  poor  mortal  you  generally  brin;^  about, 
b\'  orderin^'  hnn  to  speak,  to  do  all  things  with  a  view 
to  their  being  seen  I  Few  good  and  frnilful  things 
ever  were  done,  or  could  be  done,  on  those  terms. 
Silence,  silence  ;  and  be  distant,  ye  profane,  with 
your  jargonings  and  superficial  babblements,  when  a 
man  has  any  thing  to  do!  Eye-service,  —  dost  thou 
know  what  that  is,  poor  England?  —  eye-service  is 
all  the  man  can  do  in  these  sad  circumstances  ;  groves 
to  be  all  he  has  the  idea  of  doing,  of  his  or  any  other 
man's  ever  doing,  or  ever  having  done  in  any  circum- 
stances. Sad  enough.  Alas,  it  is  our  saddest  woe 
of  all ;  — too  sad  for  being  spoken  of  at  present,  while 
all  or  nearly  all  men  consider  it  an  imaginary  sorrow 
on  my  part ! 

Let  the  young  English  soul,  in  whatever  logic-shop 
and  nonsense-verse  establishment  of  an  Eton,  Oxford, 
Edinburgh,  Halle,  Salamanca,  or  other  High  Finish- 
ing School,  he  may  be  getting  his  young  idea  taught 
how  to  speak  and  spout,  and  print  sermons  and  re- 
view-articles, and  thereby  show  himself  and  fond 
patrons  that  it  is  an  idea,  —  lay  this  solemnly  to 
heart  ;  this  is  my  deepest  counsel  to  him  !  The  idea 
you  have  once  spoken,  if  it  even  were  an  idea,  is  no 
longer  yours  ;  it  is  gone  from  you,  so  much  hie  and 
virtue  is  gone,  and  the  vital  circulations  of  yourself 
and  your  destiny  and  activity  are  henceforth  deprived 
of  it.  If  you  could  not  get  it  spoken,  if  you  could 
still  constrain  it  into  silence,  so  mu.ch  the  richer  are 


270  STUMP-OUATOR. 

you.  Better  keep  your  idea  while  yon  can  :  let  it 
still  circulate  in  your  blood,  and  there  fructify  ;  inar- 
ticulately inciting  you  to  good  activities  ;  giving  to 
your  whole  spiritual  life  a  mddier  heaiih.  When  the 
time  does  come  for  speaking  it,  you  will  speak  it  all 
the  more  concisely,  the  more  expressively,  appropri- 
ately :  and  if  such  a  time  should  never  come,  have 
you  not  already  acted  it,  and  uttered  it  as  no  words 
can  ?  Think  of  this,  my  young  friend  ;  for  there  is 
nothing  truer,  nothing  more  forgotten  in  these  shabby 
gold-laced  days.  Incontinence  is  half  of  all  the  sins 
of  man.  And  among  the  many  kinds  of  that  base 
vice,  I  knoAV  none  baser,  or  at  present  half  so  fell 
and  fatal,  as  that  same  Incontinence  of  Tongue. 
'  Public  speaking,'  'parliamentary  eloquence  : '  it  is  a 
Moloch,  before  whom  young  souls  are  made  to  pass 
through  the  fire.  They  enter,  weeping  or  rejoicing, 
fond  parents  consecrating  them  to  the  rediiot  Idol,  as 
to  the  Highest  God  :  and  they  come  out  spiritually 
dead.  Dead  enough  ;  to  live  thenceforth  a  galvanic 
lite  of  mere  Stnmp-Oratory ;  screeching  and  gibber- 
ing, words  without  wisdom,  without  veracity,  with- 
out conviction  more  than  skin-deep.  A  divine  gift, 
that  ?  It  is  a  thing  admired  by  the  vulgar,  and  re- 
warded with  seats  in  the  Cabinet  and  other  precioci- 
ties;  but  to  the  wise,  it  is  a  thing  not  admirable,  not 
adorable  ;  unmelodious  rather,  and  ghastly  and  bode- 
ful, as  the  speech  of  sheeted  spectres  in  the  streets  at 
midnight ! 

Be  not  a  Public  Orator,  thou  brave  young  British 
man,  thou  that  art  now  growing  to  be  something  :  not 


STUMP-ORATOR.  2/1 

a  StuQip-Orator,  if  thou  canst  help  it.  Appeal  not  to 
the  vulgar,  with  its  long  ears  and  its  seats  in  the  Cab- 
inet ;  not  by  spoken  words  to  the  vulgar  ;  Jicitc  the 
profane  vulgar,  and  bid  it  begone.  Appeal  by  silent 
work,  by  silent  suffering  if  there  be  no  work,  to  the 
gods,  who  have  nobler  than  seats  in  the  Cabinet  for 
thee  !  Talent  for  Literature,  thou  hast  such  a  talent  ? 
Believe  it  not,  be  slow  to  believe  it !  To  speak,  or  to 
write.  Nature  did  not  peremptorily  order  thee  ;  but  to 
work  she  did.  And  know  this :  there  never  was 
a  talent  even  for  real  Literature,  not  to  speak  of  tal- 
ents lost  and  damned  in  doing  sham  Literature,  but 
was  primarily  a  talent  for  something  infinitely  better 
of  the  silent  kind.  Of  Literature,  in  all  ways,  be  shy 
rather  tlian  otlierwise,  at  present  !  There  where  thou 
art,  work,  work  ;  whatsoever  thy  hand  fnideth  to  do, 
do  it,  —  with  the  hand  of  a  man,  not  of  a  phantasm  ; 
be  that  thy  unnoticed  blessedness  and  exceeding  great 
reward.  Thy  words,  let  them  be  few,  and  well  or- 
dered. Love  silence  rather  than  speech  in  these 
tragic  days,  when,  for  very  speaking,  the  voice  of 
man  has  fallen  inarticulate  to  man  ;  and  hearts,  in  this 
loud  babbling,  sit  dark  and  dumb  towards  one  another. 
Witty,  —  above  all,  O,  be  not  witty  :  none  of  us  is 
bound  to  be  witty,  under  penalties:  to  be  vv^ise  and 
true  we  all  are,  under  the  terriblest  penalties  !  Brave 
young  friend,  dear  to  me,  and  known  too  in  a  sense, 
though  never  seen,  nor  to  be  seen  by  me, —  you  are, 
what  I  am  not,  in  the  happy  case  to  learn  to  be  some- 
thing and  to  do  something,  instead  of  eloquently  talk- 
ing about  what  has  been  and  was  done  and  may  be  ! 
The  old  are  what  they  are,  and  will   not  alter ;  our 


272  STUMr-ORATOR. 

hope  is  ill  you.  England's  hope,  and  the  world's,  is 
that  there  may  once  more  he  millions  such,  instead  of 
units  as  now.  Made  ;  i  fans  to  pede.  And  may  fu- 
ture generations,  acquainted  again  with  the  silences, 
and  once  more  cognizant  of  what  is  nohle  and  faithful 
and  divine,  look  back  on  us  with  pity  and  incredulous 
astonishment ! 


PARLIAMENTS. 


By  this  time  it  is  sufficiently  apparent  the  present 
Editor  is  not  one  of  those  who  expect  to  see)  the 
Country  saved  by  farther  '  reforming '  the  reformed 
Parliament  we  have  got.  On  the  contrary,  he  has  the 
sad  conviction  that  from  such  Parliament  never  so  in- 
geniously reformed,  there  can  no  salvation  come,  but 
only  a  speedy  finale  far  different  from  salvation.  It 
is  his  effort  and  desire  to  teach  this  and  the  other 
thinking  British  man  that  said  finale,  the  advent 
namely  of  actual  open  Anarchy,  cannot  be  distant, 
now  when  virtual  disguised  Anarchy,  long-continued, 
and  waxing  daily,  has  got  to  such  a  height;  and  that 
the  one  method  of  staving  off  that  fatal  consumma- 
tion, and  steering  towards  the  Continents  of  the  Fu- 
ture, lies  not  in  the  direction  of  reforming  Parliament, 
but  of  wh^t  he  calls  reforming  Downing  Street ;  a 
thing  infinitely  urgent  to  be  begun,  and  to  be  stren- 
uously carried  on.  To  find  a  Parliament  more  and 
more  the  express  image  of  the  People,  could,  unless 
the  People  chanced  to  be  wise  as  well  as  miserable, 
give  him  no  satisfaction.  Not  this  at  all ;  but  to  find 
some  sort  of  King,  made  in  the  image  of  God,  who 
could  a  little  achieve    for  the  People,   if   not    their 


274  PARLIAMENTS. 

spoken  wishes,  yet  their  dumb  wants,  and  what  they 
would  at  last  find  to  have  been  their  instinctive  loill, 
—  which  is  a  far  different  matter  usually,  in  this  bab- 
bling world  of  ours. 

Qualification  movement,  universal-suffrage  move- 
ment. Reform  Association,  and  suchlike,  this  f^ditor 
does  not  enjoin  upon  his  readers  ;  —  his  readers  whom 
(as  every  crow  is  known  to  think  her  own  eggs  whitest) 
he  considers  to  be  a  select  class,  the  true  Aristocracy 
of  England,  capable  of  far  better  things  than  these. 
Which  better  things,  and  not  the  worse,  it  is  his  heart's 
wish  to  urge  them  upon  doing.  And  yet,  alas,  how 
can  he  forbid  any  reader  of  his,  or  of  other  people's, 
to  join  such  suffrage  movement,  or  still  more  distract- 
ed Chartism  of  Six  Points,  if  it  seem  hopeful  ?  Where 
we  are,  is  no  continuing.  Men  say  :  "  The  finale  must 
come,  ought  to  come  ;  perhaps  the  sooner  it  conies,  it 
will  be  the  lighter  to  bear.  If  the  foul  universal  boil 
is  to  go  on  ripening,  under  mere  Leave-alone  and 
Premiers  of  the  Phantasm  order,  perhaps  the  sooner 
it  bursts,  and  declares  itself  as  universal  gangrene  and 
social  death  the  better !  "  Good  Heavens,  have  men 
computed  what  the  bursting  out  of  virtual  disguised 
Anarchy  into  open  undeniable  Anarchy,  such  as  they 
have  in  the  Continental  countries  just  now,  amounts 
to  in  human  affairs ;  what  a  game  that  of  trying  for 
cure  in  the  Medea's-cauldron  of  Revolution  is!  Must 
we  also  front  the  Apotheosis  of  Attorneyism ;  and 
know  what  the  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses  means? 

But  if  the  captains  of  the  ship  are  of  that  scan- 
dalous class  who  refuse  to  be  warned  except  by  iceberg 
counsellors  nudging  them,  what  are  the  miserable  crew 
to  do !    Yes,  the  crew  had  better  consider  of  that  ]  they 


PARLIAMENTS.  275 

have  greatly  too  little  considered  it  of  late.  They 
will  find  that  in  Nature  there  is  no  such  alarming 
creature  as  a  Chief  Governor  of  that  humor,  in  getting 
round  a  Cape  Horn  like  tiiis  of  ours ;  that,  if  pity  did 
not  check  our  rage,  there  is  no  such  traitor  in  the  ship 
as  this  unconscious  one !  Who,  placidly  assured, 
nothing  doubting  but  he  is  the  friend  of  gods  and 
men,  can  stand  with  imperturbable  attitude,  quietly 
steering,  by  his  old  Whig  and  other  charts  of  the 
British  Channel  (as  if  we  were  still  there  or  there- 
abouts), into  the  yawning  mouth  of  Chaos,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  world  ;  and  call  it  passing  the  Fore- 
lands in  rough  weather,  or  getting  into  Cowes,  by 
constitutional  methods,  and  'remedial  measures  suited 
to  the  occasion.'  Our  heart's  prayer  in  those  circum- 
stances is:  From  such  Chief  Governors,  good  Lord 
deliver  us !  And  if  masses  of  the  desperate  common 
men  before  the  mast  do  invoke  Chartism  rather,  and 
invite  the  iceberg  counsellors  to  nudge  him, — can- 
not we  too  well  understand  it?  I  hope,  in  other 
quarters  of  the  ship  there  are  men  who  know  wiser 
courses,  and  instead  of  inviting  the  iceberg  counsel- 
lors and  Six  Points,  will  direct  all  their  strength  to 
fling  the  Phantasm  Captain  under  hatches.  It  is  with 
the  view  of  aiding  and  encouraging  these  latter  that 
we  now  institute  a  few  considerations  upon  Parlia- 
ments generally. 

Dryasdust  in  his  lumber-masses,  which  he  calls 
treatises  and  histories,  has  not  been  explicit  about 
Parliaments  :  bnt  we  need  not  doubt,  the  English  Par- 
liameiit,  as  windy  a  palavering  and  imaginary  entity 
as  it  has  now  grown  to  be,  was  at  one  time   a  quite 


276  PARLIAMENTS. 

solid  serious  actuality,  met  for  earnest  despatch  of 
work  Avhich,  on  the  King's  part  and  the  Common- 
wealth's, needed  absolutely  to  be  done.  Reading  m 
Eadmerus  and  the  dim  old  Books,  one  finds  gradual- 
ly that  the  Parliament  was  at  first  a  most  simple  As- 
semblage, quite  cognate  to  the  situation  ;  that  Red 
William,  or  whoever  had  taken  on  him  the  terrible 
task  of  being  King  in  England,  was  wont  to  invite, 
oftenest  about  Christmas  time,  his  subordinate  King- 
lets, Barons  as  he  called  them,  to  give  him  the  pleas- 
ure of  their  company  for  a  week  or  two  :  there,  in 
earnest  conference  all  morning,  in  freer  talk  over 
Christmas  cheer  all  evening,  in  some  big  royal  Hall 
of  Westminster,  Winchester,  or  wherever  it  might 
b6,  with  log-fires,  huge  rounds  of  roast  and  boiled, 
not  lacking  malmsey  and  other  generous  liquor,  they 
took  counsel  concerning  the  arduons  matters  of  the 
kingdom.  ''  You  Taillebois,  Avhat  have  you  to  pro- 
pose in  this  arduous  matter  ?  —  Frontdeboeuf  has 
another  view ;  thinks,  in  his  soutliern  counties,  they 
will  go  with  the  Protectionist  movement,  and  repeal 
the  malt-tax,  the  African  Squadron,  and  the  window- 
duty  itself.  —  Potdevin,  what  is  your  opinion  of  the 
measure  ;  will  it  hold  in  your  parts  ?  So,  Fitzurse 
disagrees,  then!  —  Tete-d"etoupes,  speak  out.  And 
first,  the  pleasure  of  a  glass  of  wine,  my  infant  ?  "  — 
—  Thus,  for  a  fortnight's  space,  they  carried  on,  after 
a  human  manner,  their  grand  National  Consult  or 
Parliamentum ;  intermingling  Dinner  with  it  (as  is 
still  the  modern  method);  debating  everything,  as 
Tacitus  describes  the  Ancient  Germans  to  have  done, 
two  times :  once  sober,  and  once  what  he  calls 
'drunk,'  —  not  dead-drunk,  but  jolly  round  their  big 


PARLIAMENTS. 


277 


table;  —  that  so  both  sides  of  the  matter  might  be 
seen ;  and,  midway  between  rash  hope  and  unreason- 
able apprehension,  the  true  decision  of  it  might  be 
hit.  To  this  hour  no  public  matter,  with  whatever 
serious  argument,  can  be  settled  in  England  till  it 
have  been  dined  upon,  perhaps  repeatedly  dined 
upon. 

To  King  Rufus  there  could  no  more  natural  method 
present  itself,  of  getting  his  affairs  of  sovereignty  trans- 
acted, than  this  same.  To  assemble  all  his  working 
Sub-kings  about  him ;  and  gather  in  a  human  man- 
ner, by  the  aid  of  sad  speech  and  of  cheerful,  what 
their  real  notions,  opinions  and  determinations  were. 
No  way  of  making  a  law,  or  of  getting  one  executed 
when  made,  except  by  even  such  a  General  Consult 
in  one  form  or  another. — Naturally  too,  as'in  all 
places  where  men  meet,  there  established  themselves 
modes  of  proceeding  in  this  Christmas  Parliamentum  : 
secretaries  from  the  first  were  needed  there,  strict  rec- 
ord of  the  results  arrived  at  being  indispensable  ;  and 
the  methods  of  arriving,  marginally  noted  or  other- 
wise, would  not  be  forgotten :  such  methods,  with 
trials  of  ever  new  methods,  accumulating,  and  in  the 
course  of  continual  practice  getting  sifted,  rejected, 
adopted,  and  committed  to  record,  —  the  vast  elabo- 
ration, now  called  Law  of  Parliament,  Privilege, 
Practice  of  Parliament,  and  that  huge  sheepskin 
quarry,  in  which  Dryasdi^st  bores  and  grovels  as 
if  the  world's  or  England's  secret  lay  there,  grew  to 
be  what  we  see. 

So  likewise  in  the  time  of  the  Edwards,  when  Par- 
liament gradually  split  itself  into  Two  Houses;  and 
24 


278  PARLIAMENTS. 

Borough  Members  and  Knights  of  the  Shire  were 
summoned  up  to  answer,  Whether  they  could  stand 
such  and  such  an  impost?  and  took  upon  them  to 
answer,  "Yes,  your  Majesty;  but  we  have  such  and 
such  grievances  greatly  in  need  of  redress  first,"  — 
nothing  could  be  more  natural  and  human  than  such 
a  Parliament  still  was.  And  so,  granting  subsidies, 
stating  grievances,  and  notably  widening  its  field  in 
that  latter  direction,  accumulating  new  modes,  and 
Practices  of  Parliament  greatly  important  in  world- 
history,  the  old  Parliament  continued  an  eminently 
human,  veracious  and  indispensable  entity,  achieving 
real  work  in  the  Centuries.  Down,  we  may  say,  to 
the  Century  of  Charles  First,  when  being  constrained 
by  unforeseen  necessity  to  do  so,  it  took  suddenly, 
like  water  at  the  boiling  point,  a  quite  immense  de- 
velopment of  function  ;  and  performed  that  new  func- 
tion too,  to  the  world's  and  its  own  amazement,  in  an 
eminently  human,  authentic  and  effectual  manner, — 
the  '  supply  '  it  granted  his  Majesty,  this  time  (in  front 
of  Whitehall,  as  it  ultimately  proved),  being  of  a  very 
unexpected  yet  by  no  means  unessential  nature  ;  and 
the  '  grievance  '  it  now  stated  for  redress  being  the 
transcendent  one  of  Compulsion  towards  Spiritual 
Nightmare,  towards  Cantir.g  Idolatry,  and  Death  Eter- 
nal,-—  which  I  do  not  wonder  that  they  couldn't  en- 
dure, and  wouldn't  !  Which  transcendent  grievance, 
it  is  well  known,  they  diS  get  redressed,  in  a  most 
conspicuous  manner,  they,  for  the  time  being;  —  and 
so  have  since  set  all  the  world  upon  similar  but  far 
less  hopeful  attempts,  by  methods  which  appear  the 
same,  and  are  not  the  same  but  different. 

This  Long  Parliament  which  conquered  its  King, 


PARLIAMENTS.  279 

and  even  extinguished  him,  since  he  would  in  no  way 
be  quiet  when  conquered  ;  and  which  thus,  the  first  of 
such  Assemblages,  declared  that  it  was  Sovereign  in 
the  Nation,  and  more  royal  than  any  King  who  could 
be  there,  —  has  set  a  flaming  pattern  to  all  the  world, 
Avhich  now  after  centuries  all  the  world  is  fruitlesdy 
bent  to  emulate.  This  ever-memorable  Long  Parlia- 
ment is  definable,  both  in  regard  to  its  destinies  in  His- 
tory, and  to  its  intrinsic  collective  and  individual  worth 
among  Deliberative  Assemblies,  as  the  Acme  of  Parlia- 
ments ;  the  highest  that  it  lay  in  them,  to  be,  or  to  do, 
in  human  afl'airs.  The  consummation,  this,  and  slow 
eactus-flowerage  of  the  parliamentary  tree  among  man- 
kind, which  blossoms  only  in  thousands  of  years,  and 
is  seen  only  once  by  men  :  the  Father,  this,  of  all  Con- 
gresses, National  Conventions  and  sublunary  Parlia- 
ments that  have  since  been. 

But  what  I  had  to  remark  of  this  Long  Parlia- 
ment, and  of  its  English  predecessors  generally  from 
the  times  of  Rufus  downwards,  is  their  perfect  ve- 
racity of  purpose,  their  exact  adaptation  to  getting 
the  business  done  that  was  in  hand.  Supplies  did,  in 
some  way,  need  to  be  granted ;  grievances,  such  as 
never  fail,  did,  in  some  way  need  to  be  stated  and 
redressed.  The  silent  Peoples  had  their  Paidiamen- 
tiun  ;  mid  spake  by  it  to  their  Kings  who  governed 
them.  In  all  human  Government,  wherever  a  man 
will  attempt  to  govern  men,  this  is  a  function  neces- 
sary as  the  breath  of  life  :  and  it  must  be  said  the  old 
European  Populations,  and  the  fortunate  English  best 
of  all,  did  this  function  well.  The  old  Parliaments 
were  authentic  entities ;  came  upon  indispensable 
work ;  and  were  in  earnest  to  their  very  finger-ends 


280  PARLIAMENTS. 

about  getting  it  done.  No  conclave  of  railway  direc- 
tors, met  with  closed  doors  upon  the  sacred  cause  of 
script  and  dividends,  could  be  more  intent  upon  the 
business  necessary,  or  be  more  appropriate  for  it,  than 
those  old  Parliaments  were. 

In  modern  Parliaments,  again,  indeed  ever  down 
from  the  Long  Parliament,  I  note  a  sad  gradual  fall- 
ing off  in  this  matter  of  'veracity,'  —  which,  alas, 
means  a  falling  off  in  all  real  use,  or  possible  advan- 
tage, there  can  be  to  mankind  in  such  Institutions. 
The  Parliament,  if  we  examine  well,  has  irrevocably 
lost  certain  of  its  old  functions,  which  it  still  pretends 
to  do;  and  has  got  certain  new  functions,  which  it 
never  can  do,  and  yet  pretends  to  be  doing :  a  doubly 
fatal  predicament  for  the  Parliament.  Its  functions 
growing  ever  more  confused  in  this  twofold  way,  the 
position  of  the  Parliament  has  become  a  false,  and 
has  gradually  been  becoming  an  impossible  one,  in 
modern  affairs.  While  on  the  other  hand,  the  poor 
Parliament,  little  conscious  of  all  that,  and  long  dim- 
ly struggling  to  remedy  all  that,  and  exist  amidst  it  ; 
or  in  latter  years,  still  more  fatally  admitting  all  that, 
and  quietly  consenting  to  exist  beside  it  ivithoiit 
remedy,  —  has  had  to  distort  and  pervert  its  poor  ac- 
tivity in  all  manner  of  ways  ;  and  at  length  has  dif- 
fused itself  into  oceans  of  windy  talk  reported  in 
Hansard;  has  grown,  in  short,  a  National  Palaver; 
and  is,  as  I  said  lately,  one  of  the  strangest  entities 
this  sun  ever  looked  down  upon.  For,  I  think,  a 
National  Palaver  recognized  as  Sovereign,  a  solemn 
Convocation  of  all  the  Stump-Orators  in  the  Nation 
to  come  and  govern  us,  was  not  seen  in  the  earth  till 


PARLIAMENTS.  281 

recently.  I  consider  it  has  been  reserved  for  these 
our  Latter  Generations ;  a  product  long  ripening  for 
us  from  afar ;  —  and  would  fain  hope  that,  like  the 
Long  Parliament,  or  acme  and  consummate  flower  in 
any  kind,  it  can  only  be  a  transient  phenomenon  ! 

Some  functions  that  are  and  continue  real  the  Par- 
liament still  has; — and  these  it  becomes  infinitely 
necessary  to  dissever,  and  extricate  alive,  from  the 
ocean  of  unreality  in  which  they  swim.  Unreality 
is  death,  to  Parliaments  and  all  things.  The  real 
functions  whatsoever  they  are,  these,  most  certainly, 
are  all  the  good  we  shall  ever  get  of  Parliament  ;  and 
the  question  now  is,  Shall  said  good  be  drowned,  or 
not  be  drowned,  in  the  immeasurable  accompaniment 
of  imaginary  functions,  which  are  evil  and  falsity  and 
that  only  ? 


In  the  way  of  changed  times  I  note  two  grand 
modern  facts,  omitting  many  minor,  which  have,  one 
of  them  irrevocably,  and  the  other  hopelessly  for  the 
present,  altered  from  top  to  bottom  the  function  and 
position  of  all  Parliaments  ;  and  which  do  now  fatally 
vitiate  their  procedure  everywhere,  rendering  much  of 
what  they  do  a,  superfluity,  a  mere  hypocrisy,  or  nox- 
ious grimace  ;  and  thus  infecting  even  what  is  real  in 
their  function  with  a  windy  falsity,  lamentable  to  be- 
hold and  greatly  requiring  to  be  altered  :  Fact  first^ 
the  existence  of  an  Unfettered  Press,  with  its  perennial 
ever-increasing  torrent  of  morning  newspapers,  pam- 
phlets, books  :  fact  seco?id,  that  there  is  now  no  King 
present  in  Parliament  ;  no  King  now  there,  the  Kiiig 
24* 


282  PARLIAMENTS. 

having  vanished,  — in  front  of  Whitehall,  long  since  f 
Fact  first  I  take  to  be  unalterable.  Complete  alteration 
of  fact  second  I  discern  to  be  distant,  but  likewise  to 
be  indispensable  and  inevitable  ;  and  to  require  ur- 
gently here  and  now  (by  New  Downing  Streets  or 
otherwise)  a  strenuous  beginning,  from  all  good  citi- 
zens who  would  do  any  reform  in  their  generation. 
Both  facts  together  have  dislocated  every  joint  of  the 
old  arrangement,  and  made  the  modern  Parliament  a 
new  creature  ;  and  whosoever  means  to  work  reform 
there,  will  either  open  his  eyes,  and  keep  them  open, 
to  both  these  facts,  or  work  only  mischief  and  ruin. 
In  countries  that  can  stand  a  Free  Press,  —  which 
many  cannot,  but  which  England,  thanks  to  her  long 
good  training,  still  can,  —  it  is  evident  the  National 
Consult  or  real  Parliamentary  Debate  goes  on  of 
itself,  everywhere,  continually.  Is  not  the  Times 
Newspaper  an  open  Forum,  open  as  never  Forum  was 
before,  where  all  mortals  vent  their  opinion,  state 
their  grievance,  —  all  manner  of  grievances,  from  loss 
of  your  umbrella  in  a  railway,  to  loss  of  your  honor 
and  fortune  by  unjust  sovereign  persons  ?  One  grand 
branch  of  the  Parliament's  trade  is  evidently  dead 
,  forever  !  Nor  is  the  other  grand  branch  very  living. 
If  we  will  consider  it,  the  essential  truth  of  the 
matter  is,  every  British  man  can  now  elect  himself  to 
Parliament  without  consulting  the  hustings  at  all.  If 
there  be  any  vote,  idea  or  notion  in  him,  or  any 
earthly  or  heavenly  thing,  cannot  he  take  a  pen,  and 
therewith  autocratically  pour  forth  the  same  into  the 
ears  and  hearts  of  all  people,  so  far  as  it  will  go  ? 
Precisely  so  far  ;  and,  what  is  a  great  advantage  too, 
no  farther.     The  discussion  of  questions  goes  on,  not 


PARLIAMENTS. 


283 


in  St.  Stephen's  now,  but  from  Dan  to  Beersheba  by 
able-editors  and  articulate-speaking  creatures  that  can 
get  others  to  listen  to  them.  This  is  the  fact  ;  and  it 
demands  to  be  attended  to  as  such, — and  will  pro- 
duce changes,  I  think,  by  and  by. 

What  is  the  good  of  men  collected,  with  effort,  to 
debate  on  the  benches  of  St.   Stephen's,  now  when 
there  is  a  Times  Newspaper?     Not  the  discussion  of 
questions;  only  the  ultimate  voting  of  them  (a  very 
brief  process,  I  should  think  !)  requires  to  go  on,  or 
can  veritably   go   on,   in    St.   Stephen's  now.     The 
honorable  gentleman  is  oftenest  very  wearisome  in  St. 
Stephen's  now :  his  and  his  Constituency's  Aye  or  No, 
is  all  we  want  of  the  honorable  gentleman  there  ;  all 
we  are  ever  like  to  get  of  him  there,  —  could  it  but 
be  had  without  admixtures  !     If  your  Lordship  will 
reflect  on  it,  you  will  find  it  an  obsolete  function,  this 
debating  one  of  his  ;  useless  in  these  new  times,  as  a 
set  of  riding  postboys  would  be,  along  the  line  of  the 
Great  Western  Railway.     Loving  my  life,  and  time 
which  is  the  stuff  of  life,  I  read  no  Parliamentary 
Debates,  rarely  any  Parliamentary  Speech  ;  but  I  am 
told  there  is  not,  once  in  the  seven  years,  the  smallest 
gleam  of   new  intelligence   thrown   oh   any  matter, 
earthly  or  divine,  by  an  honorable  gentleman  on  his 
legs   in  Parliament.     Nothing  offered  you  but  weari- 
some, dreary,  thrice-boiled  colewort  ;  —  a  bad  article 
at  first,  and  served  and  again  served  in  Newspapers 
and  Periodical  and  other  Literatures,  till  even  the  in- 
ferior animals  would  recoil  from  it.     Honorable  gen- 
tlemen have  complained  to  myself  that  under  the  sky 
there  was  not  such  a  bore.     What  is  or  can  be  the  use 
of  this,  your  Lordship  ? 


284  PARLIAMENTS. 

Let  an  honorable  gentleman  who  has  cole  wort,  or 
stump-oratory  of  that  kind,  send  it  direct  to  the 
Times  ;  perhaps  they  will  print  it  for  him,  and  then 
all  persons  can  read  it  there  who  hope  instruction 
from  it.  If  the  Times  refuse  to  print  it,  let  the  hon- 
orable gentleman,  if  still  so  minded,  print  it  at  his 
own  expense  ;  let  him  advertise  it  at  a  penny  the 
gross,  distribute  it  gratis  as  handbill,  or  even  offer  a 
small  reward  per  head  to  any  citizen  that  will  read 
it :  but  if  after  all,  no  body  of  citizens  will  read  it 
even  for  a  reward,  then  let  the  honorable  gentleman 
retire  into  himself,  and  consider  what  such  omens 
mean  !  So  much  I  take  to  be  fair,  or  at  least  un- 
avoidable in  a  free  country  :  Let  every  creature  try 
to  get  his  opinion  listened  to ;  and  let  honorable  gen- 
tlemen who  can  print  their  own  stump-oratory,  and 
offer  the  public  a  reward  for  using  it,  by  all  means  do 
so.  But  that,  when  no  human  being  will  incline  or 
even  consent  to  have  their  said  oratory,  they  can  get 
upon  their  legs  in  Parliament  and  pour  it  out  still,  to 
the  burdening  of  many  Newspapers,  to  the  boring  of 
their  fellow-creatures,  and  generally  to  the  despair  of 
all  thinking  citizens  in  the  community  :  this  is  and 
remains,  I  mitst  crave  to  say,  an  infatuation,  and, 
whatever  respectable  old  coat  you  put  upon  it,  is  fast 
growing  a  nuisance  which  must  be  abated. 

Still  more  important  for  a  Parliament  is  the  ques- 
tion :  King  present  there,  or  no  King  ?  Certain  it 
always  is,  and  if  forgotten,  it  much  requires  to  be 
brought  to  mind,  that  a  Parliament  acting  in  the 
character  of  a  body  to  be  consulted  by  the  sovereign 
ruler,   or   executive    King    of   a  Nation,   diff'ers   ini- 


PARLIAMENTS.  ^35 

mensely  from  a  Parliament  which  is  itself  to  enact 
the  sovereign  rnler,  and  to  be  supreme  over  all  things; 
not  merely  giving  its  advice,  its  remonstrance,  dissent 
or  assent,  and  leaving  the  ruler  still  to  decide  with 
that  new  illumination  ;  but  deciding  of  itself,  and  by 
its  Yes  or  its  No  peremptorily  ordering  all  things  to 
be  or  not  to  be.  These,  I  say,  are  two  extremely 
different  characters  for  a  Parliament  to  enact ;  and 
they  necessitate  all  manner  of  distinctions,  of  the 
most  vital  nature,  in  our  idea  of  a  Parliament  ;  so 
that  what  applies  with  full  force  to  a  Parliament  act- 
ing the  former  character,  will  not  apply  at  all  to  one 
enacting  the  latter  ;  nay  what  is  of  the  highest  ben- 
efit in  the  former  kind  of  Parliament,  may  not  only 
in  the  latter  kind  be  of  no  benefit,  but  be  even  of  the 
fatallest  detriment,  and  bring  destruction  to  the  poor 
Parliament  itself  and  to  all  that  depends  thereon. 

It  is  first  of  all,  therefore,  to  be  inquired,  Whether 
your  Parliament  is  actually  in  practice  the  Adviser  of 
the  Sovereign;  oris  the  Sovereign  itself?  For  the 
distinction  is  profound  ;  goes  down  to  the  very  roots 
of  Parliament  and  of  the  Body  Politic  ;  and  if  you 
confound  the  two  kinds  of  Parliaments,  and  apply  to 
the  one  the  psalmodyings  and  celebratings  of  consti- 
tutional doctors  (very  rife  through  the  eighteenth 
century),  which  were  meant  for  the  other,  and  were 
partly  true  of  the  other,  but  are  altogether  false  of 
this,  —  you  will  set  forth  in  a  radically  wrong  course, 
and  will  advance  incessantly,  with  whatever  psalm- 
odyings of  your  own  or  of  the  world's,  to  a  goal  you 
are  like  to  be  much  surprised  at  !  —  Under  which  of 
these  two  descriptions  the  British  Parliament  of  our 


286  PARLIAMENTS. 

time  falls,  no  one  can  need  to  be  informed.  Apart 
from  certain  thin  fictions,  and  constitutional  cobwebs 
which  it  is  not  expected  any  one  should  not  see 
through,  our  Parliament  is  the  sovereign  ruler  and 
real  executive  King  of  this  Empire  ;  and  constitu- 
tional men.  who  for  a  century  past  have  been  singing 
praises  to  that  sublime  Institution  in  its  old  character, 
are  requested  to  look  at  it  in  this  new  one,  and  see 
what  praises  it  has  earned  for  itself  there.  Hitherto, 
in  these  last  fifteen  years  since  it  has  worked  without 
shackle  in  that  new  character,  one  does  not  find  its 
praises  mount  very  high  !  The  exercise  of  English 
Sovereignty,  if  that  mean  governance  of  the  Twenty- 
seven  million  British  souls  and  guidance  of  their  tem- 
poral and  eternal  interests  towards  a  good  issue,  does 
not  seem  to  stand  on  the  very  best  footing  just  at  pres- 
ent '  Not  as  a  Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  Twenty-seven 
million  British  men,  or  heroic  guide  of  their  temporal 
or  their  eternal  interests,  has  the  reformed  Parliament 
distinguished  itself  as  yet,  but  otherwise  only  if  at  all. 
In  fact,  there  rises  universally  the  complaint,  and 
expression  of  surprise,  That  our  reformed  Parliament 
cannot  get  on  with  any  kind  of  work,  except  that  of 
talking,  which  does  not  serve  much;  and  the  Chief 
Minister  has  been  heard  lamenting,  in  a  pathetic 
manner,  that  the  Business  of  the  Nation  (meaning 
thereby  the  voting  of  the  supplies)  was  dreadfully 
obstructed  ;  and  that  it  would  be  difficult  for  him  to 
accomplish  the  business  of  the  Nation,  meaning  there- 
by the  voting  of  the  supplies,  if  honorable  gentlemen 
would  not  please  to  hold  their  tongues  a  little.  It  is 
really  pathetic,  after  a  sort ;  and  unless  parliamentary 
eloquence  will  suffice  the  British  Nation,  and  its  busi- 


PARLIAMENTS.  287 

nesses  and  wants^  orje  sees  not  what  is  to  become  of 
us  in  that  direction.  For.  in  fine,  the  tragic  expe- 
rience is  dimly  but  irrepressibly  forcing  itself  on  all  the 
world,  that  our  British  Parliament  does  not  shine  a3 
Sovereign  Ruler  of  the  British  Nation ;  that  it  wa& 
excellent  only  as  Adviser  of  the  Sovereign  Ruler  ;  and 
has  not,  somehow  or  other,  the  art  of  getting  work 
done  ;  but  produces  talk  merely,  not  of  the  most  in- 
structive sort  for  most  part,  and  in  vortexes  of  talk  is 
not  unlike  to  submerge  itself  and  the  whole  of  us,  if 
help  come  not ! 

My  own  private  notion,  which  I  invite  all  reformed 
British  citizens  to  reflect  on,  is  and  has  for  a  long  time 
been.  That  this  dim  universal  experience,  which  points 
towards  very  tragic  facts,  will  more  and  more  rapidly 
become  a  clear  universal  experience,  and  disclose  a 
tragic  law  of  Nature  little  dreamt  of  by  constitutional 
men  of  these  times.  That  a  Parliament,  especially  a 
Parliament  Avith  Newspaper  Reporters  firmly  estab- 
lished in  it,  is  an  entity  which  by  its  very  nature  can- 
not do  work,  but  can  do  talk  only,  —  which  at  times 
may  be  needed,  and  at  other  times  again  may  be  very 
needless.  Consider,  in  fact,  a  body  of  Six-hundred  and 
fifty-eight  miscellaneous  persons  set  to  consult  about 
'business,'  with  Twenty-seven  millions,  mostly  fools, 
assiduously  listening  to  them,  and  checking  and  criti- 
cizing them  :  —  was  there  ever  since  the  world  began, 
will  there  ever  be  till  the  world  end,  any  *  business ' 
accomplished  in  these  circumstances  ?  The  begin-  - 
ning  of  all  business  everywhere,  as  all  practical  per- 
sons testify,  is  decidedly  this,  That  every  man  shut 
his  mouth,  and  do  not  open  it  again  till  his  thinking 
and  contriving    faculty   have    elaborated    something 


288  PARLIAMENTS. 

worth  articulating.  Which  rule  will  much  abridge 
the  flow  of  speech  iu  such  assemblies !  This,  how- 
ever, is  the  preliminary  fundamental  rule  for  business; 
and  this,  alas,  is  precisely  the  rule  which  cannot  be 
attended  to  in  constitutional  Parliaments. 

Add  now  another  most  unfortunate  condition.  That 
your  Parliamentary  Assembly  is  not  very  much  in 
earnest,  not  at  all  '■  dreadfully  in  earnest,'  to  do  even 
the  best  it  can  ;  that  in  general  the  Nation  it  represents 
is  no  longer  an  earnest  Nation,  but  a  light,  sceptical 
epicurean  one,  which  for  a  century  has  gone  along 
smirking,  grimacing,  cutting  jokes  about  all  things, 
and  has  not  been  bent  with  dreadful  earnestness  on 
any  thin?;  at  all,  except  on  making  money  each  mem- 
ber of  it  for  himself:  here,  certainly  enough,  is  a  Par- 
liament that  will  do  no  business  except  such  as  can 
be  done  in  sport;  and  unfortunately,  it  is  well  known, 
almost  none  can  be  done  in  that  way.  To  which 
Parliament,  in  the  centre  of  such  a  Nation,  introduce 
now  assiduous  Newspaper  Reporters,  and  six  yards  of 
small  type  laid  on  all  breakAist-tables  every  morning  : 
alas,  are  not  the  Six-hundred  and  fifty-eight  miscel- 
laneous gentlemen  who  sit  to  do  sovereign  business  in 
such  circumstances,  verily  a  self-contradiction,  a  sole- 
cism in  Nature,  —  Nature  having  appointed  that  busi- 
ness shall  not  be  done  in  that  way  ?  Incapable  they 
of  doing  business ;  capable  of  speech  only,  and  this 
none  of  the  best.  Speech  which,  as  we  can  too  well 
see,  whether  it  be  speech  to  the  question  and  to  the  wise 
men  near,  or  '  speech  to  Bunkum '  (as  the  Americans 
call  it),  to  the  distant  constituencies  and  the  twenty- 
seven  millions  mostly  fools,  will  yearly  grow  more 


PARLIAMENTS. 


289 


worthless  as  speech,  and  threaten  to  finish  by  becom- 
ing burdensome  to  gods  and  men ! 

So  that  the  sad  conclusion,  which  all  experience, 
Avherever  it  has  been  tried,  is  fatally  making  good, 
appears  to  be,  That  Parliaments,  admirable  as  Ad- 
vising Bodies,  and  likely  to  be  in  future  universally 
useful  in  that  capacity,  are,  as  Ruling  and  Sovereign 
Bodies,  not  useful,  but  useless  or  worse.  That  a 
Sovereign  with  nine-hundred  or  with  six-hundred 
and  fifty-eight  heads,  all  set  to  talk  against  each  other 
in  the  presence  of  tliirty-four  or  twenty-seven  or 
eighteen  millions,  cannot  do  the  work  of  sovereignty 
at  all ;  but  is  smitten  with  eternal  incompetence  for 
that  function  by  the  law  of  Nature  itself.  Such,  alas, 
is  the  sad  conclusion  ;  and  in  England,  and  wherever 
else  it  is  tried,  a  sad  experience  will  rapidly  make  it 
good. 

Only  perhaps  in  the  United  States,  which  alone  of 
countries  can  do  tcithoiit  governing,  —  every  man 
being  at  least  able  to  live,  and  move  off"  into  the  wil- 
derness, let  Congress  jargon  as  it  will, — can  such  a 
form  of  so  called  '  Government  '  continue  for  any 
length  of  time  to  torment  men  with  the  semblance, 
when  the  indispensable  substance  is  not  there.  For 
America,  as  the  citizens  well  know,  is  an  "unparal- 
leled country,"  —  with  mud  soil  enough  and  fierce 
sun  enough  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  alone  to  grow 
Indian  corn  for  the  extant  Posterity  of  Adam  at  this 
time; — what  other  country  ever  stood  in  such  a 
case  ?  '  Speeches  to  Bunkum,'  and  a  constitutional 
battle  of  the  Kilkenny  cats,  which  in  other  countries 
are  becoming  tragical  and  unendurable,  may  there  still 
^5 


290  PARLIAMENTS. 

fall  under  the  comical  category.  If  indeed  America 
should  ever  experience  a  higher  call,  as  is  likely,  and 
begin  to  feel  diviner  wants  than  that  of  Indian  corn 
wkh  abundant  bacon  and  molasses,  and  unlimited 
scope  for  all  citizens  to  hunt  dollars, — America  too 
will  find  that  caucuses,  division-lists,  stnmp-oratory 
and  speeches  to  Bunkum  will  not  carry  men  to  the 
immortal  gods ;  that  the  Washington  Congress,  and 
constitutional  battle  of  Kilkenny  cats  is,  there  as  here, 
naught  for  such  objects;  quite  incompetent  for  such  ; 
and  in  fine  that  said  sublime  constitutional  arrange- 
ment will  require  to  be  (with  terrible  throes,  and 
travail  such  as  iew  expect  yet)  remodelled,  abridged, 
extended,  suppressed  ;  torn  asunder,  put  together 
again;  —  not  without  heroic  labor,  and  effort  quite 
other  than  that  of  the  Stump-Orator  and  the  Revival 
Preacher,  one  day  ! 

Thus  if  the  first  grand  branch  of  parliamentary 
business,  that  of  stating  grievances,  has  fallen  to  the 
Unfettered  Presses,  and  become  quite  dead  for  Parlia- 
ments, infecting  them  with  mere  hypocrisy  when  they 
now  try  it,  —  the  second  or  new  grand  branch  of 
business  intrusted  to  them,  and  passionately  expected 
and  demanded  of  them,  is  one  which  they  cannot  do  ; 
the  attempt  and  pretence  to  do  which  can  only  still 
farther  involve  them  in  hypocrisy,  in  fatal  cecity, 
stump-oratory,  futility,  and  the  faster  accelerate  their 
doom,  and  ours  if  we  depend  on  them. 

We  may  take  it  as  a  fact,  and  should  lay  it  to  heart 
everywhere,  That  no  Sovereign  Ruler  with  six-hun- 
dred and  fifty-eight  heads,  set  to  rule  twenty-seven 
millions,  by  continually  talking  in  the  hearing  of 
♦^»p.m  all.  can  for  the  life  of  it  make  a  good  figure  iq 


PARLIAMENTS.  291 

that  vocation  ;  but  must  by  nature  make  a  bad  figure, 
and  ever  a  worse  and  worse,  till,  some  good  day,  by 
soft  recession,  or  by  rude  propulsion,  as  the  Omnipo- 
tent Beneficence  may  direct,  it  —  get  relieved  from 
said  vocation. 

In  the  whole  course  of  History  I  have  heard  of 
only  two  Parliaments  of  the  Sovereign  sort,  that  did 
the  v/ork  of  sovereignty  with  some  effect :  the  Na- 
tional Convention,  in  Paris,  during  the  P'rench  Revo- 
lution ;  and  the  Long  Parliament,  here  at  London, 
during  our  own.  Not  that  the  work,  in  either  case, 
was  perfect ;  far  enough  from  that  ;  but  with  all  im- 
perfections it  was  got  done  ;  and  neither  of  these  two 
workers  proved  to  be  quite  futile,  or  a  solecism  in  its 
place  in  the  world.  These  two  Parliaments  succeed- 
ed, and  did  not  fail.  The  conditions,  however,  were 
peculiar  ;  not  likely  to  be  soon  seen  again. 

In  the  first  place,  of  both  these  Parliaments  it  can 
be  said  that  they  were  'dreadfully  in  earnest  ; '  in  ear- 
nest as  no  Parliaments  before  or  since  ever  were.  Nay 
indeed,  in  the  end,  it  had  become  a  matter  of  life  or 
death  with  them.  But  apart  from  that  latter  consid- 
eration, in  the  Long  Parliament  especially,  nothing  so 
astonishes  a  modern  man  as  the  serious,  solemn,  nay 
devout,  religiously  earnest  spirit  in  which  almost  every 
member  had  come  up  to  his  task.  For  the  English 
was  yet  a  serious,  devout  Nation,  —  as  in  fact  it  intrin- 
sically still  is,  and  ever  tends  and  strives  to  be  ;  this 
its  poor  modern  levity,  sceptical  knowingness,  and 
sniffing,  grinning  humor,  being  forced  on  it,  and  sit- 
ting it  very  ill  :  —  ever  a  devout  Nation,  I  say;  and 
the  Divine  Presence  yet  irradiated  this  poor  Earth 


i292  PARLIAMENTS. 

and  its  business  to  most  men  ;  and  to  all  Englishmen 
the  Parliament,  we  can  observe,  was  still  what  their 
Temple  was  to  the  ancient  Hebrews  ;  the  most  august 
of  terrestrial  objects,  into  Avhich  when  a  man  entered, 
he  felt  that  he  was  standing  on  holy  ground.  Liter- 
ally so  ;  and  much  is  the  modern  man  surprised  at  it ; 
and  only  after  much  reluctance  can  he  admit  it  to  be 
credible,  to  be  certain  and  visible  among  our  old  fa- 
thers there.  — In  which  temper  alone,  is  there  not  sure 
promise  of  work  being  done,  under  any  circumstances 
whatsoever?  Given  any  lamest  Talking  Parliament, 
Avith  its  Chartisms  or  its  starving  Irish,  and  a  starving 
w^orld  getting  all  into  pike-points  round  it ;  given  the 
saddest  natural  solecism  discoverable  in  the  Earth  or 
under  the  Earth ;  —  inform  it  with  this  noble  spirit,  it 
will  from  the  first  hour  become  a  less  sad  solecism ;  it 
will,  if  such  divine  spirit  hold  in  it,  and  nerve  its  con- 
tinual efforts,  cease  at  last  to  be  a  solecism,  and  by 
self-sacrifice  or  otherwise  become  a  veracity,  and  get 
itself  adopted  by  Nature. 

But  secondly,  what  likewise  is  of  immense  signifi- 
cance, the  Long  Parliament  had  no  Reporters.  Very 
far  from  that  ;  no  Member  himself  durst  so  much  as 
whisper  to  any  extraneous  mortal,  without  leave  given, 
what  went  on  within  those  sacred  walls.  Solemn 
reprimand  from  the  Speaker,  austere  lodgment  in  the 
Tower,  if  he  did.  If  a  patriot  stranger,  coming  up  on 
express  pilgrimage  from  the  country,  chance  to  gaze 
in  from  the  Lobby  too  curiously  on  the  august  Assem- 
blage (as  once  or  twice  happens),  he  is  instantly  seized 
by  the  fit  usher;  led,  pale  as  his  shirt,  into  the  floor 
of  the  honorable  House.  Speaker  LenthalTs  and  four- 
hundred  other  pairs  of  Olympian  eyes  transfixing  him, 


PARLIAMENTS.  293 

that  it  "be  there  ascertained,  Whether  the  Tower,  the 
Tarpeiaii  rock,  or  what  in  Natnre  or  out  of  it,  shall  be 
the  doom  of  such  a  man  !  A  silent  place  withal,  though 
a  talking  one  ;  hermetically  sealed  ;  no  whisi-er  to  be 
published  of  it,  except  what  the  honorable  House  it- 
self directs.  Let  a  modern  honorable  member,  with 
his  reporters'  gallery,  his  strangers'  gallery,  his  temale 
ventilator,  and  twenty-seven  millions  mostly  fools 
listening  to  him  at  Bunkum,  wliile  all  at  hand  are 
asleep,  consider  what  a  fact  is  that  old  one  ! 

But  thirdly,  what  also  is  a  most  important  fact  in 
this  question,  the  Long  Parliament,  after  not  many 
months  of  private  debating,  split  itself  fairly  into  two 
parties;  and  the  Opposition  party  fairly  rode  away, 
designing  to  debate  in  another  manner  thenceforth. 
What  an  abatement  of  parliamentary  eloquence  in  that 
one  fact  by  itself,  is  evident  enough  !  The  Long 
Parliament,  for  all  manner  of  reasons,  for  these  three 
and  for  others  that  could  be  given,  was  an  nnexam- 
pled  Parliament,  —  properly  indeed,  as  I  sometimes 
define  it,  the  Father  of  all  Parliaments  which  have 
sat  since  in  this  world ! 

^  The  French  Convention  did  its  work,  too  ;  and 
this  under  circumstances  intrinsically  similar,  much 
as  they  differed  outwardly.  No  Parliatiient  more  '  in 
earnest '  ever  sat  in  any  country  or  time  ;  and  indeed 
it  was  the  Parliament  of  a  Nation  all  in  deadly  ear- 
nest ;  gambling  against  the  world  for  life  or  for  death. 
The  Convention  had  indeed  Reporters  ;  and  encoun- 
tered much  parliamentary  eloquence  at  its  starting, 
and  underwent  strange  handlings  and  destinies  in 
consequence  :  but  we  know  how  it  managed  with  its 
25* 


294  PARLIAMENTS. 

parliamentary  eloquence,  and  got  that  reduced  tc 
limits,  when  once  business  did  behove  to  be  done  ! 
The  Convention,  its  Girondins  and  opposition  par- 
ties once  thrown  out,  had  its  Committee  of  Salut 
Piihlique,  consisting  of  Twelve,  of  Nine,  or  even 
properly  of  Three.;  in  whose  hands  lay  all  sovereign 
business,  and  the  whole  terrible  task  of  ascertaining 
what  was  to  be  done.  Of  which  latter,  the  latter  be- 
ing itself  so  immense,  so  swift  and  imperatively  need- 
ful, all  parliamentary  eloquence  was  to  be  the  enforce- 
ment and  publisher  and  recorder  merely.  And  what- 
ever eloquent  heads  chose  to  obstruct  this  sovereign 
Committe,  the  Convention  had  its  guillotine,  and 
swiftly  rid  itself  of  these  and  of  their  eloquence. 
Whereby  business  went  on,  without  let  on  that  side ; 
and  actually  got  itself  done  ! 

These  are  the  only  instances  I  know,  of  Parlia- 
ments that  succeeded  in  the  business  of  Government  ; 
and  these  I  think  are  7tot  inviting  instances  to  the 
British  reformer  of  this  day.  Rather  what  we  may 
call  paroxysms  of  parliamentary  life,  than  instances 
of  what  could  be  continuously  expected  of  any  Par- 
liament,—  or  perhaps  even  transiently  wished  of  any. 
They  were  the  appropriate,  and  as  it  proved,  the 
effectual  organism  for  Periods  of  a  quite  transcendent 
character  in  National  Life  ;  such  as  it  is  not  either 
likely  or  desirable  that  we  should  see,  except  at  very 
long  intervals,  in  human  affairs. 

The  fact  is,  Parliaments  have  had  two  great  blows, 
in  modern  times  ;  and  are  now  in  a  manner  quite 
shorn  of  their  real  strength,  and  what  is  still  worse, 
invested  with  an  imaginary.     Faust  of  Mentz,  when 


PARLIAMENTS.  295 

he  invented  ^  moveable  types  '  inflicted  a  terrible  blow 
on  Parliaments  ;  suddenly,  though  yet  afar  off,  redu- 
cing them  to  a  mere  scantling  of  their  former  self,  and 
taking  all  the  best  business  out  of  their  hands.  Then 
again  John  Bradshaw,  when  he  ordered  the  hereditary 
King  to  vanish,  in  front  of  Whitehall,  ^and  proclaimed 
that  Parliament  itself  was  King,  —  John,  little  con- 
scious of  it,  inflicted  a  still  more  terrible  blow  on 
Parliaments  ;  appointing  them  to  do  (especially  with 
Faust,  too,  or  the  Morning  Newspaper,  gradually  get- 
ting in)  what  Nature  and  Fact  had  decided  they 
could  never  do.  In  which  doubly  fatal  state,  with 
Faust  busier  than  ever  among  them,  they  continue 
at  this  moment, — working  towards  strange  issues,  1 
do  believe  ! 

Or,  speaking  in  less  figurative  language,  our  con- 
clusion is,  first,  That  Parliaments,  while  they  con- 
tinued, as  our  English  ones  long  did,  mere  advisers 
of  the  Sovereign  Ruler,  were  invaluable  institutions  ; 
and  did,  especially  in  periods  when  there  was  no 
Times  Newspaper,  or  other  general  Forum  free  to 
every  citizen  who  had  three  fingers  and  a  smattering 
of  grammar,  —  deserve  well  of  mankind,  and  achieve 
services  for  which  we  should  be  always  grateful. 
This  is  conclusion  first.  But  then,  alas,  equally  irref- 
ragable comes  conclusion  second,  That  Parliaments 
when  they  get  to  try,  as  our  poor  British  one  now 
does,  the  art  of  governing  by  themselves  as  the  Su- 
preme Body  in  the  Nation,  make  no  figure  in  that 
capacity,  and  can  make  none,  but  by  the  very  nature 
of  the  case  are  unable  to  do  it.  Only  two  instances 
are  on  record  of  Parliaments  having,  in  any  circum- 
stances, succeeded  as  Governing  Bodies  ;  and  it  is  even 


296  PAIlLIAI\IE?s'T». 

hoped.,  or  ought  to  be,  by  men   generally,  that  there 
may  not  for  another  thousand  years  be  a  tliird  ! 

As  not  only  our  poor  British  Parliament  of  those 
years  and  decades,  but  all  the  sudden  European  Par- 
liaments, at  Paris,  Frankfort,  Erfurt  and  elsewhere, 
are  Parliaments  which  undertake  that  second  or  im- 
possible function  of  governing  as  Parliaments,  and 
must  either  do  it,  or  sink  in  black  anarchy  one  knows 
not  whitherward,  —  the  horoscope  of  Parliaments  is 
by  no  means  cheering  at  present ;  and  good  citizens 
may  justly  shudder,  if  their  anticipations  point  that 
way,  at  the  prospect  of  a  Chartist  Parliament  here. 
For  your  Chartist  Parliament  is  properly  the  consum- 
mation of  that  fatal  tendency,  towards  the  above- 
mentioned  impossible  function,  on  the  part  of  Parlia- 
ments. A  tendency  not  yet  consummated  with  us  ; 
for  we  still  have  other  fragments  of  old  Authority 
lodged  elsewhere  than  in  the  Parliament,  which  stiii 
struggle  here  and  there  to  accomplish  a  little  govern- 
ing, though  under  strange  conditions :  and  to  instal  a 
Parliament  of  the  Six  Points  would  be  precisely  to 
extinguish  with  the  utmost  rapidity  all  such  frag- 
ments, and  solemnly  by  National  Charter  and  Six 
Pdints-to  bid  the  Parliament,  ''  Be  supreme  King  over 
us,  thou,  in  all  respects;  and  rule  us,  thou,  —  since  it 
is  impossible  for  thee  !  " 

These  are  serious  considerations,  sufficient  to  create 
alarm  and  astonishment  in  any  constitutional  man. 
But  really  it  grows  late  in  the  day  with  constitutional 
men  ;  and  it  is  time  for  them  to  look  up  from  their 
Delolme.     If  the  constitutional  man  will  take  the  old 


PARLIAMENTS. 


297 


Delolme-Bentham  spectacles  off  his  nose,  and  look 
abroad  into  the  Fact  itself  with  such  eyes  as  he  may 
have,  I  consider  he  will  find  that  reform  in  matters 
social  does  not  now  mean,  as  he  has  long  sleepily  fan- 
cied, reform  in  Parliament  alone  or  chiefly  or  perhaps 
at  all.  My  alarming  message  to  him  is,  that  the  thing 
we  vitally  need  is  not  a  more  and  more  perfectly  elected 
Parliament,  but  some  reality  of  a  Ruling  Sovereign 
to  preside  over  Parliament ;  that  we  have  already  got 
the  former  entity  in  some  measure,  but  that  we  are 
farther  than  ever  from  the  road  towards  the  latter  ; 
and  that  if  the  latter  be  missed  and  not  got,  there  is 
no  life  possible  for  us.  A  New  Downing  Street,  an 
infinitely  reformed  Governing  Apparatus  ;  there  some 
hope  might  lie.  A  Parliament,  any  conceivable  Par- 
liament, continuing  to  attempt  the  function  of  Gov- 
ernor, can  lead  us  only  into  No-Government  which  is 
called  Anarchy  ;  and  the  more  '  reformed  '  or  Demo- 
cratic you  make  it,  the  swifter  will  such  consumma- 
tion be. 


Men's  hopes  from  a  Democratic  or  otherwise  re-  ^ 
formed  Parliament  are  various,  and  rather  vague  at 
present  ;  but  surely  this,  as  the  ultimate  essence,  lies 
and  has  always  lain  in  the  heart  of  them  all  :  That 
hereby  we  shall  succeed  better  in  domg  the  com- 
mandment of  Heaven,  instead  of  everywhere  violat- 
ing or  ignoring  Heaven's  commandment,  and  incur- 
ring Heaven's  curse,  as  now.  To  ascertain  better 
and  better  what  the  will  of  the  Eternal  was  and  is 
with  us,  what  the   Laws  of  the    Eternal  are,  all  Par- 


298  PARLIAMENTS. 

liameiits,  Ecnmenic  Councils,  Congresses,  and  other 
Collective  AViscloms,  have  had  this  for  their  object. 
This  or  else  nothing  easily  conceivable,  — except  to 
merit  damnation  for  themselves,  and  to  get  it  too  ! 
Nevertheless,  in  the  exp.licable  universal  votings  and 
debatings  of  these  Ages,  an  idea  or  rather  a  dumb 
presunnption  to  the  contrary  has  gone  idly  abroad  ; 
and  at  this  day,  over  extensive  tracts  of  the  world, 
poor  human  beings  are  to  be  found,  whose  practical 
belief  it  is  that  if  we  -vote'  this  or  that,  so  this  or 
that  will  thenceforth  be.  "Who's  to  decide  it?'' 
they  all  ask,  as  if  the  whole  or  chief  question  lay 
there.  "  Who's  to  decide  it  ?  "  asks  the  irritated 
British  citizen,  with  a  sneer  in  his  tone.  '•  Who's  to 
de'*ide  it  ?  "  asks  he,  oftener  than  any  other  question 
of  me.  Decide  it,  O  irritated  British  citizen  ?  Why, 
thou,  and  I,  and  each  man  into  whose  living  soul  the 
Almighty  has  breathed  a  gleam  of  understanding  ;  we 
are  all,  and  each  of  us  for  his  own  self,  to  decide  it  : 
and  wo  will  befall  us,  each  and  all,  if  we  don't  decide 
it  aright ;  according  as  the  Almighty  has  already 
'■  decided  '  it,  as  it  has  been  appointed  to  be  and 
to  continue,  before  all  human  decidings  and  after 
them  all  !  — 

Practically  men  have  come  to  imagine  that  the 
Laws  of  this  Universe,  like  the  laws  of  constitutional 
countries,  are  decided  by  voting ;  that  it  is  all  a  study 
of  division  lists,  and  for  the  Universe  too,  depends  a 
little  on  the  activity  of  the  whipper-in.  It  is  an  idle 
fancy.  The  Laws  of  this  Universe,  of  which  if  the 
Laws  of  England  are  not  an  exact  transcript,  they 
should  passionately  study  to  become  such,  are  fixed 
by  the  everlasting  congruity  of  things,  and  are  not 


PARLIAMENTS.  293 

fixable  or  changeable  by  voting  !  Neither  properly, 
we  say,  are  the  Laws  of  England,  or  those  of  any 
other  land  never  so  repubh'can  or  red  republican,  fix- 
able  or  changeable  by  that  poor  foulish  process  ;  not 
at  all,  O  constitutional  Peter,  much  as  it  may  as- 
tonish you  !  Voting  is  a  method  we  have  agreed 
upon  for  settling  temporary  discrepancies  of  opinion 
as  to  what  is  law  or  not  law  in  this  small  section  of 
the  Universe  called  England :  a  good  temporary 
method,  possessing  some  advantages ;  which  does  set- 
tle the  discrepancy  for  the  moment.  Nay,  if  the 
votings  were  sincere  and  loyal,  we  might  have  some 
chance  withal  of  being  right  as  to  the  question,  and 
of  settling  it  blessedly  forever;  —  though  again,  if 
the  votings  are  insiuv^^re,  selfish,  almost  professedly 
<//5loyal,  and  given  under  the  influence  of  beer  and 
balderdash,  we  have  the  proportionate  sad  chance  of 
being  ivrong,  and  so  settling  it  under  curses,  to  be 
fearfully  unsettled  again  ! 

For  I  must  remark  to  you,  and  reiterate  to  you, 
that  a  continued  series  of  votings  transacted  inces- 
santly for  sessions  long,  with  three  times  three  read- 
ings, and  royal  assents  as  many  as  you  like,  cannot 
make  a  law  the  thing  which  is  no  law.  No,  that  lies 
beyond  them.  They  can  make  it  a  sheepskin  Act  of 
Parliament  ;  and  even  hang  men  (though  now  with 
difficulty)  for  not  obeying  it :  —  and  this  they  reckon 
enough  ;  the  idle  fools  !  I  tell  you  and  them,  it  is  a 
miserable  blunder,  this  self-styled  '  law  '  of  theirs  ; 
and  I  for  one  will  study  either  to  have  no  concern 
with  it,  or  else  by  all  judicious  methods  to  disobey 
said  blundering  impious  pretended  'law.'  In  which 
sad  course  of  conduct,  very  unpleasant  to  my  feel- 


300  PARLIAMENTS. 

ingSj  but  needful  at  such  times,  the  gods  and  all  good 
men,  and  virtually  these  idle  fools  themselves,  will 
be  on  my  side  ;  and  so  I*shall  succeed  at  length,  in 
spite  of  obstacles  ;  and  the  pretended  '  law '  will  take 
down  its  gibbet-ropes,  and  abrogate  itself,  and  march; 
with  the  town-drum  beating  in  the  rear  of  it,  and 
beadles  scourging  the  back  of  it,  and  ignominious 
idle  clamor  escorting  it,  to  Chaos,  one  day ;  and  the 
Prince  of  Darkness,  Father  of  Delusions,  Devil,  or 
whatever  his  name  be,  Avho  is  and  was  always  its 
true  proprietor,  will  again  hold  possession  of  it,  — 
much  good  may  it  do  him  ! 

My  friend,  do  you  think,  had  the  united  Posterity 
of  Adam  voted,  and  since  the  Creation  done  nothing 
but  vote,  that  three  and  three  were  seven,  ^ — would 
this  have  altered  the  laws  of  arithmetic  ;  or  put  to 
the  blush  the  solitary  Cocker  who  continued  to  as- 
sert privately  that  three  and  three"  were  six?  I  con- 
sider, not.  And  is  arithmetic,  think  you,  a  thing 
more  fixed  by  the  Eternal,  than  the  laws  of  justice 
are,  and  what  the  right  is  of  man  towards  man  ? 
The  builder  of  this  world  was  Wisdom  and  Divine 
Foresight,  not  Folly  and  Chaotic  Accident.  -  Eternal 
Law  is  silently  present,  everywhere  and  everywhen. 
By  Law  the  Planets  gyrate  in  their  orbits  ;  — by  some 
approach  to  Law  the  Street-Cabs  ply  in  their  thorough- 
fares. No  pin's  point  can  you  mark  within  the  wide 
circle  of  the  All  where  God's  Laws  are  not.  Un- 
known to  you,  or  known  (you  had  bettter  try  to  know 
them  a  little!) — inflexible,  righteous,  eternal ;  not  to 
be  questioned  by  the  sons  of  men.  Wretched  being, 
do  you  hope  to  prosper  by  assembling  six-hundred 
and  fifty-eight  poor  creatures  in  a  certain  apartment, 


PARLIAMENTS.  SOI 

and  getting  them  after  debate,  and  "Divide, — 'vide, 
—  'vide,"  and  report  in  the  Times,  to  vote  that  what 
is  not  is?  You  will  carry  it,  you,  by  your  voting 
and  your  eloquence  and  babbling  ;  and  the  adaman- 
tine basis  of  the  Universe  shall  bend  to  your  third 
reading,  and  paltry  bit  of  engrossed  sheepskin  and 
dog-latin  ?     What  will  become  of  you. 

Unless  perhaps  the  Almighty  Maker  has  forgotten 
this  miserable  anthiU  of  a  Westminster,  of  an  Eng- 
land ;  and  has  no  Laws  in  force  here  which  are  of 
moment  to  him  ?  Not  here  and  now  ;  only  in  Judea, 
and  distant  countries  at  remote  periods  of  time  ? 
Confess  it,  Peter,  you  have  some  cowardly  notion  to 
that  effect,  though  ashamed  to  say  so!  Miserable 
soul !  Doji't  you  notice  gravitation  here,  the  law  of 
birth  and  of  death,  and  other  laws  ?  Peter,  do  you 
know  why  the  Age  of  Miracles  is  past?  Because  you 
are  become  an  enchanted  human  ass  (I  grieve  to  say 
it) ;  and  merely  bray  parliamentary  eloquence  ;  rejoice 
in  chewed  gorse,  scrip  coupons,  or  the  like  ;  and  have 
no  discernible  '  Religion,'  except  a  degraded  species 
of  Phallus- Worship,  whose  liturgy  is  in  the  Circulat- 
ing Libraries  ! 

In  Parliaments,  Constitutional  Conclaves  and  Col- 
lective Wisdoms,  it  is  too  fatally  certain,  there  have 
been  many  things  approved  of,  which  it  was  found 
on  trial  Nature  did  not  approve  but  disapprove.  Na- 
ture told  the  individual  trying  to  lead  his  life  by  such 
rule,  No  ;  the  Nation  of  individuals,  No.  "  Not  this 
way,  my  children,  though  the  wigs  that  prescribed 
it  were  of  great  size,  and  the  bowowing  they  enforced 

-  26 


o02  TAKLIAMEXTS. 

it  with  was  loud  ;  not  by  this  way  is  victory  and 
blessedness  attainable  ;  by  other  ways  than  this. 
Only  stagnation,  degradation,  choked  sewers,  want 
of  potatoes,  nncnltivated  heaths,  overturned  mud- 
cabins,  and  at  length  Chartism,  street-barricades,  Red 
Republic,  and  Chaos  come  again,  will  prove  attainable 
by  this!  " 

Here  below  there  is  but  one  thing  needful ;  one 
thing; — and  that  one  wnll  in  no  wise  consent  to  be 
dispensed  with  !  He  that  can  ascertain,  in  England 
or  elsewhere,  what  the  laws  of  the  Eternal  are,  and 
walk  by  them  voted  for  or  unvoted,  with  him  it  will 
be  well  ;  with  him  that  misses  said  laws,  and  only 
gets  himself  voted  for,  not  well.  Voting,  in  fact,  O 
Peter,  is  a  thing  I  value  but  little  in  any  time,  and 
almost  at  zero  in  this.  Not  a  divine  thing  at  all,  my 
poor  friend,  but  a  human  ;  and  in  the  beer-and-balder- 
dash  case,  whatever  constitutional  doctors  may  say, 
almost  a  brutal.  Voting,  never  a  divine  Apollo,  was 
once  a  human  Bottom  the  Weaver;  and,  so  long  as 
he  continued  in  the  sane  and  sincere  state,  was  worth 
consulting  about  several  things.  But  alas,  enveloped 
now  in  mere  stump-oratory,  cecity,  mutinous  imbe- 
cility, and  sin  and  misery,  he  is  now  an  enchanted 
Weaver,  —  wooed  by  the  fatuous  Queen  of  consti- 
tutional Faery, — and  feels  his  cheek  hairy  to  the 
scratch.  Beer  rules  him,  and  the  Infinite  of  Balder- 
dash ;  and  except  as  a  horse  might  vote  for  tares  or 
hard  beans,  he  had  better,  till  he  grow  wise  again, 
hardly  vote  at  all.  I  will  thank  thee  to  take  him 
away,  into  his  own  place,  which  is  very  low  down 
indeed;  and  to  put  in  the  upper  place  something  in- 
finitely worthier.       You  ask  what  thing ;    in  a  tri- 


FAELIAMENTS.  303 

nmphant  manner,  with  erect  ear  and  curved  tail,  O 
hapless  quadruped  ?  How  can  I  tell  ijoii  what  thing? 
I  myself  know  it,  and  every  soul  still  human  knows 
it,  or  may  know;  but  to  the  soul  that  has  fallen 
asinine,  and  thinks  the  LaAVS  of  God  are  to  be  voted 
for,  it  is  unknowable. 

*  If  of  ten  men  nine  are  recognizable  as  fools,  which 
is  a  common  calculation,'  says  our  Intermittent 
Friend,  '■  how,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  will  you  ever 
get  a  ballotbox  to  grind  you  out  a  wisdom  from  the 
votes  of  these  ten  men  ?  Never  by  any  conceivable 
ballotbox,  nor  by  all  the  machinery  in  Bromwicham 
or  out  of  it,  will  you  attain  such  a  result.  Not  by 
any  method  under  Heaven,  except  by  suppressing, 
and  in  some  good  way  reducing  to  zero,  nine  of  those 
votes,  can  wisdom  ever  issue  from  your  ten. 

'■  Why  men  have  got  so  universally  into  such  a 
fond  expectation  ?  The  reason  might  lead  us  far. 
The  reason  alas  is,  men  have  to  a  degree  never  before 
exampled  forgotten  that  there  is  fixed  eternal  law  in 
this  Universe  ;  that  except  by  coming  upon  the  dic- 
tates of  that,  no  success  is  possible  for  any  nation  or 
creature.  That  we  should  have  forgotten  this, — 
alas,  here  is  an  abyss  of  vacuity  in  our  much-admired 
opulence,  which  the  more  it  is  looked  at  saddens  the 
thinking  heart  the  more. 

'And  yet,'  continues  he  elsewhere,  'it  is  unavoid- 
able and  indispensable  at  present.  With  voting  and 
ballot-boxing  who  can  quarrel,  as  the  matter  stands? 
I  pass  it  without  quarrel ;  nay  say  respectfully,  ''  Good 
speed  to  you,  poor  friends :  Heaven  send  you  not 
only  a  good  votingbox,  but  something  worth  voting 


301  PARLIAMENTS. 

for!  Sad  function  yours,  giving  plumpers  or  split- 
votes  for  or  against  such  a  pair  of  human  beings,  and 
such  a  set  of  liuman  causes.     Adieu  !  '* ' 


And  yet  surely,  not  in  England  only,  where  the 
Institution  is  like  a  second  nature  to  us,  but  in  all 
countries  where  men  have  attained  any  civilization,  it 
is  good  that  there  be  a  Parliament.  Morning  News- 
papers, and  other  temporary  or  permanent  changes  of 
circumstances,  may  much  change  and  almost  infinitely 
abridge  its  function,  but  they  never  can  abolish  it. 
Under  whatever  Reformed  Downing  Street,  or  indis- 
pensable new  King,  of  these  New  Eras,  England  be 
governed,  its  Parliament  too  will  continue  indispen- 
sable. And  it  is  much  to  be  desired  that  all  men  saw 
clearly  what  the  Parliament's  real  function,  in  these 
changed  times  of  newspaper  reporters  and  imaginary 
kings,  had  grown  to  be.  We  must  set  it  to  its  real 
function  ;  and,  at  our  peril  and  its,  restrict  it  to  that ! 
Its  real  function  is  the  maximum  of  all  we  shall  be 
able  to  get  out  of  it.  Wrap  it  in  never  so  many 
sheepskins,  and  venerabilities  of  use  and  wont,  you 
will  not  get  it  persuaded  to  do  what  its  real  fimction 
is  not.  Endless  derangement,  spreading  into  futility 
on  every  side,  and  ultimate  ruin  even  to  its  real  func- 
tion, will  result  to  you  from  setting  it  to  work  against 
what  Nature  and  Fact  have  appointed  for  it.  Your 
Dray-wagon,  excellent  for  carting  beer  along  the 
streets,  —  start  not  with  it  from  the  chimney-tops,  as 
Chariot  of  the  Sun ;  for  it  will  not  act  in  that  capa- 
city!  — 


PARLIAMENTS.  305 

As  a  ' Collective  Wisdom^  of  Nations  the  talking 
Parliament,  I  discern  too  well,  can  never  more  serve. 
Wisdom  dwells  not  with  stump-oratory  ;  to  the  stump- 
orator  Wisdom  has  waved  her  sad  and  peremptory  fare- 
well. A  Parliament,  speaking  through  reporters  to 
Bunkum  and  the  Twenty-seven  millions  mostly  fools, 
has  properly  given  up  tliat  function;  that  is  not  now 
the  function  it  attempts.  But  even  as  the  Condensed 
Folly  of  Nations;  Folly  bound  up  into  articulate  mass- 
es, and  able  to  say  Yes  and  No  for  itself,  it  will  much 
avail  the  Governing  Man !  To  know  at  what  pitch 
the  wide-spread  Folly  of  the  Nation  now  stands,  what 
may  safely  be  attempted  with  said  Folly,  and  what 
not  safely  :  this  too  is  very  indispensable  for  the  Gov- 
erning Man.  Below  this  function,  in  the  maddest 
times  and  with  Faust  of  Mentz  reverberating  every 
madness  ad  infinitum^  no  Parliament  can  fall. 

Votes  of  men  are  worth  collecting,  if  convenient. 
True,  their  opinions  are  generally  of  little  wisdom, 
and  can  on  occasion  reach  to  all  conceivable  and  in- 
conceivable degrees  of  folly  ;  but  their  instincts,  where 
these  can  be  deciphered,  are  wise  and  human  ;  these, 
hidden  under  the  noisy  utterance  of  what  they  call 
their  opinions,  are  the  unspoken  sense  of  man's  heart, 
and  well  deserve  attending  to.  Know  well  what  the 
people  inarticulately  feel,  for  the  Law  of  Heaven  itself 
is  dimly  written  there ;  nay  do  not  neglect,  if  you  have 
opportunity,  to  ascertain  what  they  vote  and  say.  One 
thing  the  stupidest  multitude  at  a  hustings  can  do, 
provided  only  it  be  sincere  :  Inform  you  how  it  likes 
this  man  or  that,  this  proposed  law  or  that.  "  I  do 
not  like  thee,  Dr.  Fell ;  the  reason  why  I  cannot  tell,'* 
26* 


Sd3  PARLIAMENTS. 

—  and  perhaps  indeed  there  is  no  reason;  neverthe- 
less let  the  Governor  too  he  thankful  to  know  the 
fact  -full  well,'  for  it  may  he  useful  to  him.  Nay  the 
multitude,  even  when  its  nonsei;ise  is  not  sincere,  hut 
produced  in  great  part  by  beer  and  stump-oratory,  will 
yet  by  the  very  act  of  voting  feel  itself  bound  in  hon- 
or-, and  so  even  in  that  case  it  apprizes  you,  "Such  a 
man,  such  a  law,  will  I  accept,  being  persuaded  there- 
to by  beer  and  stump-oratory,  and  having  polled  at 
hustings  for  the  same." 

Beyond  doubt  it  will  be  useful,  will  be  indispensa- 
ble, for  the  King  or  Governor  to  know  what  the  mass 
of  men  think  upon  public  questions  legislative  and 
administrative  ;  what  they  will  assent  to  willingly, 
what  unwillingly  ;  what  they  will  resist  with  super- 
ficial discontents  and  remonstrances,  what  with  ob- 
stinate determination,  with  riot,  perhaps  with  armed 
rebellion.  No  Governor  otherwise  can  go  along  with 
clear  illumiiiation-on  his  path,  however  plain  the  load- 
star and  ulterior  goal  be  to  him  ;  but  at  every  step  he 
must  be  liable  to  fall  into  the  ditch  ;  to  awaken  he 
knows  not  what  nests  of  hornets,  what  sleeping  dog- 
kennels,  better  to  be  avoided.  By  all  manner  of  means 
let  the  Governor  inform  himself  of  all  this.  To  which 
end,  Parliaments,  Free  Presses,  and  suchlike  are  ex- 
cellent; they  keep  the  Governor  fully  aware  of  what 
the  People,  wisely  or  foolishly,  think.  Without  in 
some  way  knowing  it  with  itjcderate  exactitude,  he 
has  not  a  possibility  to  govern  at  all.  For  example, 
the  Chief  Governor  of  Constantinople,  having  no  Par- 
liament to  tell  it  him,  knows  it  only  by  the  frequency 
of  incendiary  fires  in  his  capital,  the  frequency  of 
bakers  hanged  at  their  shop-lintels ;  a  most  inferior 


PARLIAMENTS.  307 

ex-posffado  method  !  — Profitable  indisputably,  essen- 
tial in  all  cases  where  practicable,  to  know  clearly  what 
and  where  the  obstacles  lie.  Marching  with  noble 
aim,  with  the  heavenly  loadstars  ever  in  your  eye,  you 
will  thns  choose  your  path  with  the  prudence  which  is 
also  noble,  and  reach  your  aim  surely,  if  more  slowly. 
With  the  real  or  seeming  slowness  we  do  not  quar- 
rel. The  winding  route,  on  uneven  surfaces,  may 
often  be  the  swiftest ;  that  is  a  point  for  your  own 
prudences,  practical  sagacities, and  qualities  as  a  King: 
the  indispensable  point,  for  both  you  and  us,  is  that 
you  do  always  advance,  unresting  if  unhasting,  and 
know  in  every  fibre  of  you  that  arrive  you  must. 
Rigidly  straight  routes  find  some  admiration  with  the 
vulgar,  and  are  rather  apt  to  please  at  hustings  ;  but 
we  know  well  enough  they  are  no  clear  sign  of  strength 
of  purpose.  The  Leming-rat,  I  have  been  told,  trav- 
elling in  myriads  seaward  from  the  hills  of  Nor- 
way, turns  not  to  the  right  or  the  left  :  if  these  rats 
meet  a  haystack,  they  eat  their  way  through  it;  if  a 
stone  house,  they  try  the  same  feat,  and  not  being 
equal  to  eating  the  house,  climb  the  walls  of  it, 
pour  over  the  roof  of  it,  and  push  forward  on  the  old 
line,  swimming  or  ferrying  rivers,  scaling  or  rounding 
precipices  ;  most  consistent  Leming-rats.  And  what 
is  strange,  too,  their  errand  seaward  is  properly  none. 
They  all  perish,  before  reaching  the  sea,  or  of  hunger 
on  the  sandbeach  ;  their  consistent  rigidly  straight 
journey  was  a  journey  nowhither  !  I  do  not  ask  your 
Lordship  to  imitate  the  Leming-rat. 

But   as   to   universal    suffrage,  again,  —  can    it  be 
proved  that,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  there 


308  PARLIAMENTS. 

was  ever  given  a  universal  vote  in  favor  of  the 
worthiest  man  or  thing  ?  I  have  always  understood 
that  true  worth,  in  any  department,  was  difficult  to 
recognize ;  that  the  worthiest,  if  he  appealed  to  uni- 
versal suffrage,  would  have  bnt  a  poor  chance.  John 
Milton,  inquiring  of  universal  England  what  the  worth 
of  Paradise  Lost  was,  received  for  answer,  Five  Pounds 
Sterling.  George  Hudson,  inquiring  in  like  manner 
w^hat  his  services  on  the  railways  might  be  worth, 
received  for  answer  (prompt  temporary  answer),  Fif- 
teen Hundred  Thousand  ditto.  Alas,  Jesus  Christ 
asking  the  Jews  what  he  deserved,  was  not  the  an- 
swer. Death  on  the  gallows! — Will  your  Lordship 
believe  me,  I  feel  it  almost  a  shame  to  insist  on  such 
truisms.  Surely  the  doctrine  of  judgment  by  vote  of 
hustings  has  sunk  now,  or  should  be  fast  sinking,  to 
the  condition  of  obsolete  with  all  but  the  commonest 
of  human  intelligences.  With  me,  I  must  own,  it  has 
never  had  any  existence.  The  mass  of  men  consulted 
at  hustings,  upon  any  high  niatter  whatsoever,  is  as 
ugly  an  exhibition  of  human  stupidity  as  this  world 
sees. 

Universal  suffrage  assembled  at  hustings,  —  I  will 
consult  it  about  the  quality  of  New-Orleans  pork,  or 
the  coarser  kinds  of  L'ish  butter ;  but  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  men,  I  will  if  possible  ask  it  no  question  : 
or  if  the  question  be  asked  and  the  answer  given,  I 
will  generally  consider,  in  cases  of  any  importance, 
that  the  said  answer  is  likely  to  be  wrong,  —  that  I  have 
to  listen  to  the  said  answer  and  receive  it  as  authentic, 
and  for  my  own  share  to  go,  and  with  whatever 
strength  may  lie  in  me,  do  the  reverse  of  the  same. 
Even  so,  your  Lordship ;  for  how  should  I  follow  a 


PAKLIAMENTS. 

multitude  to  do  evil  ?  There  are  such  things  as  mul- 
titudes all  full  of  beer  and  nonsense,  even  of  insin- 
cere factitious  nonsense,  who  by  hypothesis  cannot 
but  be  wrong.  Or  what  safety  will  there  be  in  a 
thousand  or  ten  thousand  brawling  pot  wallopers,  or 
blockheads  of  any  rank  whatever,  if  the  Fact,  namely 
the  whole  Universe  and  the  Eternal  Destinies,  be 
against  me  ?  These  latter  I  for  my  share  will  try  to 
follow,  even  if  alone  in  doing  so.  It  will  be  better 
for  me. 

Your  Lordship,  there  are  fools,  cowards,  knaves,  and 
^rUutonous  traitors  true  only  to  their  own  appetite,  in 
immense  majority,  in  every  rank  of  life  ;  and  there  is 
nothing  frightfuller  than  to  see  these  voting  and  de- 
ciding !  "  Not  your  way,  my  unhappy  brothers,  shall 
it  be  decided;  no,  not  while  I,  and  'a  company  of 
poor  men '  you  may  have  heard  of,  live  in  this  world. 
Yote  it  as  you  please,"  my  friend  Oliver  was  wont  to 
say  or  intimate  ;  "  vote  it  so,  if  you  like  ;  there  is  a 
company  of  poor  men  that  will  spend  all  their  blood 
before  they  see  it  settled  so  !  "  Who,  in  such  sad 
moments,  but  has  to  hate  the  profane  vulgar,  and  feel 
that  he  must  and  will  debar  it  from  him  !  And,  alas, 
the  vulgarest  vulgar,  I  often  find,  are  not  those  in 
ragged  coats  at  this  day  ;  but  those  in  fine,  superfine, 
and  superfinest ;  —  the  more  is  the  pity!  Superfine 
coat  symbolically  indicates,  like  official  stamp  and  sig- 
nature. Bank  of  England  Thousand- Pound  Note  ; 
and  blinkard  owls,  in  city  and  country,  accept  it 
cheerfully  as  such  :  but  look  closer,  you  may  find  it 
mere    Bank   of   Elegance;    a   flash-note    travelhng 


3'0  PAHLTAMENTS. 

towards  the  eternal  Fire  ;  — and  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  itj  you,  I  hope  ! 

Clearly  enough,  the  King  in  constitutional  coun- 
tries would  wish  to  ascertain  all  men's  votes,  their 
opinions,  volitions  on  all  manner  of  matters  ;  that  so 
his  whole  scene  of  operations,  to  the  last  cranny  of 
it,  might  be  illuminated  for  him,  and  he,  wherever  he 
were  working,  might  work  with  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  circumstances  and  materials.  But  the  King, 
New  Downing  Street,  or  whatever  the  Sovereign's 
name  is,  will  be  a  very  poor  King  indeed  if  he  admit 
all  these  votes  into  his  system  of  procedure,  and 
transform  them  into  acts;  —  indeed  I  think,  in  that 
case,  he  will  not  be  long  for  this  world  as  a  King  ! 
No  :  though  immense  acclamation  attend  him  at  the 
first  outset  in  that  course,  every  volition  and  opinion 
finding  itself  admitted  into  the  poor  King's  pro- 
cedure,—  yet  unless  the  volitions  and  opinions  are 
Avise  and  not  foolish,  not  the  smallest  ultimate  pros- 
perity can  attend  him  ;  and  all  the  acclamations  of 
the  world  will  not  save  him  from  the  ignominious  lot 
which  Nature  herself  has  appointed  for  all  creatures 
that  do  not  follow  the  Law  which  Nature  has  laid 
down. 

You  ask  this  and  the  other  man  what  is  his  opin- 
ion, his  notion,  about  varieties  of  things  ;  and  having 
ascertained  what  his  notion  is,  and  carried  it  off  as  a 
piece  of  information,  —  surely  you  are  bound,  many 
times,  most  times  if  you  are  a  wise  man,  to  go  direct- 
ly in  the  teeth  of  it,  and  for  his  sake  and  for.  yours  to 
go  directly  the  contrary  of  it.  Any  man's  opinion 
one  would  accept,  all  men's  opinion,  could  it  be  had 


PARLIAr.IENTS.  311 

absolutely  without  trouble,  might  be  worth  accept- 
ing. Nay  on  certain  points  I  even  ask  my  horse's 
opinion  :  — as  to  whether  beans  will  suit  hiin  at  this 
juncture,  or  a  truss  of  tares  ;  on  this  and  the  like 
points  I  carefully  consult  my  horse  ;  gather,  by  such 
language  as  he  has,  what  my  horse's  candid  opinion 
as  to  beans  or  the  truss  of  tares  is,  and  unhesitatingly 
follow  the  same.  As  what  prudent  rider  would  not  ? 
There  is  no  foolishest  man  but  knows  one  and  the 
other  thing  more  clearly  than  any  the  wisest  man 
does;  no  glimmer  of  human  or  equine  intelligence 
but  can  disclose  something  which  even  the  intelli- 
gence of  a  Newton,  ?wt  present  in  that  exact  junc- 
ture of  circumstances,  would  not  otherwise  have 
ascertained.  To  such  length  you  would  gladly  con- 
sult all  equine,  and  much  more  all  human  intelli- 
gences :  —  to  such  length  ;  and,  strictly  speaking,  not 
any  farther. 

Of  what  use  towards  the  general  result  of  finding 
out  what  it  is  wise  to  do,  —  which  is  the  one  thing 
needful  to  all  men  and  nations, — can  the  fool's  vote 
be  ?  It  is  either  coincident  with  the  wise  man's  vote, 
throwing  no  new  light  on  the  matter,  and  therefore 
superfluous;  or  else  it  is  contradictory,  and  therefore 
still  more  superfluous,  throwing  mere  darkness  on  the 
matter,  and  imperatively  demanding  to  be  annihilated, 
and  returned  to  the  giver  Avith  protest.  Woe  to  you 
if  you  leave  that  valid  !  There  are  expressions  of 
volition  too,  as  well  as  of  opinion,  which  you  collect 
from  foolish  men,  and  even  from  inferior  creatures  • 
these  can  do  you  no  harm,  these  it  may  be  very  bene- 
ficial for  you  to  have  and  know;  —  but  these  also, 
§urely  it  is  often  imperative  on  you  to  contradict,  and 


312  PARLIAMENTS. 

would  be  ruinous  and  baleful  for  you  to  follow.  You 
liave  to  apprise  the  unwise  man,  even,  as  you  do  the 
uuwiser  horse  :  ''  On  the  truss  of  tares  I  took  your 
vote,  and  have  cheerfully  fulfilled  it;  but  in  regard 
to  choice  of  roads  and  the  like.  I  regret  to  say  you 
have  no  competency  whatever.  No,  my  unwise 
fiiend,  we  are  for  Hammersmith  and  the  West,  not 
for  Highgate  and  the  Northern  parts,  on  this  occasion  : 
not  by  that  left  turn,  by  this  turn  to  the  right  runs 
our  road  ;  thither,  for  reasons  too  intricate  to  explain 
at  this  moment,  it  will  behove  thee  and  me  to  go: 
Along,  therefore  !  " — 

*'  But  how? "  your  Lordship  asks,  and  all  the  world 
with  you:  "Are  not  two  men  stronger  than  one; 
must  not  two  votes  carry  it  ov^er  one  ?"  I  answer  : 
No,  nor  two  thousand  nor  two  million.  Many  men 
vote  ;  but  in  the  end,  you  will  infallibly  find,  none 
counts  except  the  few  who  were  i?i  the  riglit.  Unit 
of  that  class,  against  as  many  zeros  as  you  like  !  If 
the  King's  thought  is  according  to  the  will  of  God, 
or  to  the  law  appointed  for  this  Universe,  I  can  assure 
your  Lordship  the  King  will  ultimately  carry  that, 
were  he  but  one  in  it  against  the  whole  world. 

It  is  not  by  rude  force,  either  of  muscle  or  of  will, 
that  one  man  can  govern  twent}^  men,  much  more 
twenty  millions  of  men.  For  the  moment,  if  all  the 
twenty  are  stark  against  his  resolution  never  so  wise, 
the  twenty  for  the  moment  must  have  their  foolish 
way;  the  wise  resolution,  for  the  moment,  cannot  be 
carried.  Let  their  votes  be  taken,  or  known  (as  is 
often  possible)  without  taking  ;  and  once  well  taken, 
let  them  be  weighed,  —  which  latter  operation,  also 
an  essential   one  for   the   King  or  Governor,  is  very 


PARLIAMENTS.  313 

difficult.  If  the  weight  be  in  favor  of  the  Governor, 
let  him  in  general  proceed  ;  cheerfully  accepting  ad- 
verse account  of  heads,  and  dealing  wisely  with  that 
according  to  his  means;  —  often  enough,  in  pressing 
cases,  flatly  disregarding  that,  and  walking  through 
the  heart  of  it ;  for  in  general  it  is  but  frothy  folly 
and  loud-blustering  rant  and  wind. 

1  have  known  minorities,  and  even  small  ones  by 
the  account  of  heads,  do  grand  national  feats  long 
memorable  to  all  the  world,  in  these  circumstances. 
Witness  Cromwell  and  his  Puritans  ;  a  minority  at 
all  times,  by  account  of  heads  ;  yet  the  authors  or 
saviors,  as  it  ultimately  proved,  of  whatsoever  is 
divinest  in  the  things  we  can  still  reckon  ours  in 
England.  Minority  by  tale  of  heads ;  but  weighed 
in  Heaven's  balances,  a  most  clear  majority  :  this 
'company  of  poor  men  that  will  spend  their  blood 
rather,'  on  occasion  shown,  —  it  has  now  become  a 
noble  army  of  heroes,  whose  conquests  were  ap- 
pointed to  endure  forever.  Indeed  it  is  on  such 
terms  that  grand  national  and  other  feats,  by  the  sons 
of  Adam,  are  generally  done.  Not  without  risk  and 
labor  to  the  doers  of  them  ;  no  surely,  for  it  never 
was  an  easy  matter  to  do  the  real  will  of  a  Nation, 
much  more  the  real  will  of  this  Universe  in  respect 
to  a  Nation.  No,  that  is  difficult  and  heroic  ;  easy  as 
it  is  to  count  the  voting  heads  of  a  Nation  at  any 
time,  and  do  the  behests  of  their  beer  and  balder- 
dash ;  empty  behests,  very  different  from  even  their 
'  will,'  poor  blockheads,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Nation's 
will  and  the  Universe's  will  !  Which  two,  especially 
which  latter,  are  alone  worth  doing. 
!^7 


314  PARLIAMENTS. 

But  if  not  only  the  mmiber  but  the  weight  of  votes 
preponderate  against  your  Governor,  he,  never  so 
much  in  the  right,  will  find  it  wise  to  hold  his  hand; 
to  delay,  for  a  time,  this  his  beneficent  execution, 
wliich  is  ultimately  inevitable  and  indispensable,  of 
Heaven's  Decrees  ;  the  Nation  being  still  unprepared. 
He  will  leave  the  bedarkened  Nation  yet  awhile  alone. 
What  can  he  do  for  it,  if  not  even  a  small  minority 
will  stand  by  him  ?  Let  him  strive  to  enlighten  the 
Nation  ;  let  him  pray,  and  in  all  ways  endeavor,  that 
the  Nation  be  enlightened,  —  that  a  small  minority 
may  open  their  eyes  and  hearts  to  the  message  of 
Heaven,  which  he,  heavy-laden  man  and  governor,  has 
been  commissioned  to  see  done  in  this  transitory  earth, 
at  his  peril !  Heaven's  message  sure  enough,  if  it  be 
true  ;  and  Hell's  if  it  be  not,  though  voted  for  by  innu- 
merable two-legged  animals  without  feathers  or  with ! 

On  the  whole,  honor  to  small  minorities,  when  they 
are  genuine  ones.  Severe  is  their  battle  sometimes, 
but  it  is  victorious  always  like  that  of  gods.  Tancred 
of  Hauteville's  sons,  some  eight  centuries  ago,  con- 
quered all  Italy  ;  bound  it  up  into  organic  masses,  of 
vital  order  after  a  sort ;  founded  thrones  and  princi- 
palities upon  the  same,  which  have  not  yet  entirely 
vanished,  —  which,  the  last  dying  wrecks  of  which, 
still  wait  for  some  worthier  successor,  it  would  appear. 
The  Tancred  Normans  were  some  Four  Thousand 
strong;  the  Italy  they  conquered  in  open  fight, -and 
bound  up  into  masses  at  their  ordering  will,  might 
count  Eight  Millions,  all  as  large  of  bone,  as  eupeptic 
and  black-whiskered  as  they.  How  came  the  small 
minority  of  Normans  to  prevail  in  this  so  hopeless- 
looking  debate?     Intrinsically,  doubt  it  not,  because 


PARLIAMENTS.  315 

they  were  in  the  right ;  because,  in  a  dim,  instinctive, 
but  most  genuine  manner,  they  were  doing  the  com- 
mandment of  Heaven,  and  so  Heaven  liad  decided 
that  they  were  to  prevail.  But  extrinsically  also,  I 
can  see,  it  was  because  the  Normans  were  not  afraid 
to  have  their  skin  scratched  ;  and  were  prepared  to 
die  in  their  quarrel  where  needful.  One  man  of  that 
humor  among  a  thousand  of  the  other,  consider  it  ! 
Let  the  small  minority,  backed  by  the  whole  Uni- 
verse, and  looked  on  by  such  a  cloud  of  invisible 
witnesses,  fall  into  no  despair. 


What  is  to  become  of  Parliament  in  the  New  Era, 
is  less  a  question  with  me  than  what  is  to  become  of 
Downing  Street.  With  a  reformed  Downing  Street 
strenuously  bent  on  real  and  not  imaginary  manage- 
ment of  our  affairs,  I  could  foresee  all  manner  of  re- 
form to  England  and  its  Parliament ;  and  at  length  in 
the  gradual  course  of  years,  that  highest  acme  of  re- 
form to  Parliament  and  to  England,  a  New  Governing 
Authority,  a  real  and  not  imaginary  King  set  to  pre- 
side there.  With  that,  to  my  view,  comes  all  bless- 
edness whatsoever ;  without  that  comes,  and  can 
come,  nothing  but,  with  ever  accelerated  pace,  Anar- 
chy ;  or  the  declaration  of  the  fact  that  we  have  no 
Governor,  and  have  long  had  none.  , 

For  the  rest.  Anarchy  advances  as  with  seven- 
league  boots,  in  these  years.  Either  some  New 
Downing  Street  and  Incipiency  of  a  real  Hero-King- 
ship again,  or  else  Chartist  Parliament,  with  Apotheo- 
sis of  Attorneyism,  and  Anarchy  very  undeniable  to 
all  the  world  :  one  or  else  the  other,  it  seems  to  me, 


316  PARLIAMENTS. 

we  shall  soon  have.  Under  a  real  Kingship  the  Par- 
liament, we  may  rest  satisfied,  would  gradually,  with 
Avhatever  difficulty,  get  itself  inducted  to  its  real  func- 
tion, and  restricted  to  that,  and  moulded,  to  the  form 
fittest  for  that.  If  there  can  be  no  reform  of  Down- 
ing Street,  I  care  not  much  for  the  reform  of  Parlia- 
ment. Our  doom,  I  perceive,  is  the  Apotheosis  of 
Attorneyism  ;  into  that  blackest  of  terrestrial  curses 
we  must  plunge,  and  take  our  fate  there  like  the 
others. 

For  the  sake  both  of  the  New  Downing  Street  and 
of  whatever  its  New  Parliament  may  be,  let  us  add 
here,  what  will  vitally  concern  both  these  Institu- 
tions, a  few  facts,  much  forgotten  at  present,  on  the 
general  question  of'  Enfranchisement  ; — and  there- 
with end.  Who  is  slave,  and  eternally  appointed  to 
be  governed  ;  who  free,  and  eternally  appointed  to 
govern  ?  It  would  much  avail  us  all  to  settle  this 
question. 

Slave  or  free  is  settled  in  Heaven  for  a  man  ;  acts 
of  parliament  attempting  to  settle  it  on  earth  for  him, 
sometimes  make  sad  work  of  it.  Now  and  then  they 
correctly  copy  Heaven's  settlement  in  regard  to,  it  ; 
proclaim  audibly  what  is  the  silent  fact,  "  Here  is  a 
free  man,  let  him  be  honored!  "  —  and  so  are  of  the 
nature  of  a  God'sOospel  to  other  men  concerned.  Far 
oftenest  they  quite  miscopy  Heaven's  settlement,  and 
copy  merely  the  account  of  the  Ledger,  or  some  quite 
other  settlement  in  regard  to  it ;  proclaiming  with  an 
air  of  discovery,  "  Here  is  a  Ten-ponnder  ;  here  is  a 
Thousand-pounder  ;  Heavens,  here  is  a  Three-mil- 
lion pounder,  —  is  not  he  free  ?  "    Nay  they  are  wont. 


PARLIAMENTS.  317 

here  in  England  for  some  time  back,  to  proclaim  in 
the  gross,  as  if  it  had  become  credible  lately,  all  two- 
legged  animals  without  feathers  to  be  'free.'  "  Here 
is  a  distressed  Nigger,"  they  proclaim,  "who  much 
prefers  idleness  to  work,  —  should"  not  he  be  free  to 
choose  which?  Is  not  he  a  man  and  brother?  Clear- 
ly here  are  two  legs  and  no  feathers:  let  us  vote  him 
Twenty  millions  for  enfranchisement,  and  so  secure 
the  blessing  of  the  gods  !  "  — 

My  friends,  I  grieve  to  remind  you,  but  it  is  eter- 
nally the  fact :  Whom  Heaven  has  made  a  slave,  no 
parliament  of  men  nor  power  that  exists  on  Earth  can 
render  free.  No  ;  he  is  chained  by  fetters  which  par- 
liaments with  their  millions  cannot  reach.  You  can 
label  him  free  ;  yes,^and  it  is  but  labelling  him  a  sol- 
ecism,—  bidding  him  be  the  parent  of  solecisms  where- 
soever he  goes.  You  can  give  him  pumpkins,  houses 
of  ten  pound  rent,  houses  of  ten-thousand  pound  : 
the  bigger  candle  you  light  within  the  slave-image  of 
him,  it  will  but  show  his  slave-^features  on  the  larger 
and  more  hideous  scale.  Heroism,  manful  wisdom, 
is  not  his;  many  things  you  can  give  him,  but  that 
thing  never.  Him  the  Supreme  Powers  marked  in 
the  making  of  him,  slave;  appointed  him,  at  his  and 
our  peril,  not  to  command  but  to  obey,  in  this  world. 
Him  you  cannot  enfranchise,  not  him  ;  to  proclaim 
this  man  free  is  not  a  God's  Gospel  to  other  men ;  it 
is  an  alarming  Devil's  Gospel  to  himself  and  to  us  all. 
Devil's  Gospel  little  feared  in  these  days  ;  but  brew- 
ing for  the  whole  of  us  its  big  oceans  of  destruction 
all  the  same.  States  are  to  be  called  happy  and  noble 
in  so  far  as  they  settle  rightly  who  is  slave  and  who 
27* 


318  PARLIAMENTS. 

free  ;  unhappy,  ignoble,  and  doomed  to  destruction,  as 
they  settle  it  wrong. 

We  may  depend  on  it,  Heaven  in  the  most  consti- 
tutional countries  knows  well  who  is  slave,  who  is  not. 
And  with  regard  to  voting,  I  lay  it  down  as  a  rule, 
No  real  slaveys  vote  is  other  than  a  nuisance,  whenso- 
ever or  wheresoever  or  in  what  manner  soever  it  be 
given.  That  is  a  truth,  No  slave's  vote  ;  —  and,  alas, 
here  is  another  not  quite  so  plain,  though  equally  cer- 
tain, That  as  Nature  and  severe  Destiny,  not  mere  act 
of  Parliament  and  possession  of  money-capital,  deter- 
mine a  man's  slavehood,  —  so,  by  these  latter,  it  has 
been,  hi  innumerable  instances,  determined  wrong 
just  at  present !  Instances  evident  to  everybody,  and 
instances  suspected  by  nobody  but  the  more  discern- 
ing :  —  the  fact  is,  slaves  are  in  a  tremendous  majority 
everywhere  ;  and  the  voting  of  them  (not  to  be  got 
rid  of  just  yet)  is  a  nuisance  in  proportion.  Nuisance 
of  proportionally  tremendous  magnitude,  properly  in- 
deed the  grand  fountain  of  all  other  nuisances  what- 
soever. 

For  it  is  evident,  could  you  entirely  exclude  the 
slave's  vote,  and  admit  only  the  heroic  free  man's 
vote,  —  folly,  knavery,  falsity,  gluttonous  imbccihty, 
lowmindedness  and  cowardice  had,  if  not  disappeared 
from  the  earth,  reduced  themselves  to  a  rigorous  min- 
imum in  human  affairs ;  the  ultimate  New  Era,  and 
best  possible  condition  of  human  affairs,  had  actually 
come.  This  is  what  I  always  pray  for  ;  rejoicing  in 
everything  that  furthers  it,  sorrowing  for  everything 
that  furthers  the  reverse  of  it.  And  though  I  know 
it  is  yet  a  great  way  off,  I  know  also  either  that  it  is 
inevitably  coming,  or  that  human  society,  and  the 


PARLIAMENTS.  8  ID 

possibility  of  man's  living  on  this  earth,  has  ended. 
And  so  for  England  too,  nay  I  think  for  England 
most  and  soonest  of  all,  it  will  be  behoovefal  that  we 
attain  some  rectification,  innmnerable  rectifications,  in 
regard  to  this  essential  matter ;  and  contrive  to  bid  our 
Heaven's  free  men  vote,  and  our  Heaven's  slaves  be 
silent,  with  infinitely  more  correctness  than  at  present. 
Either  on  the  hither  brink  of  that  black  sea  of  Anarchy^ 
wherein  other  Nations  at  present  lie  drowning  and 
plunging,  or  after  weltering  through  the  same,  if  we 
can  welter,  —  it  will  have  to  be  attained.  In  some 
measure,  in  some  manner,  attained:  life  depends  on 
that,  death  on  the  missing  of  that. 

New  definitions  of  slavery  are  pressingly  wanted 
just  noAV.  The  definition  of  a  free  man  is  difficult  to 
find,  so  that  all  men  could  distinguish  slave  from  free  ; 
found,  it  would  be  invaluable  !  The  free  man  once 
universally  recognized,  we  should  know  him  who  had 
the  privilege  to  vote  and  assist  in  commanding,  at 
least  to  go  himself  uncommanded.  Men  do  not  know 
his  definition  well  at  present  ;  never  knew  it  worse  ; 
—  hence  these  innumerable  sorrows. 

The  free  man  is  he  v/ho  is  loyal  to  the  Laws  of  this 
Universe  ;  who  in  his  heart  sees  and  knows,  across  all 
contradictions,  that  injustice  cannot  befall  him  here  ; 
that  except  by  sloth  and  cowardly  falsity  evil  is  not 
possible  here.  The  first  symptom  of  such  a  man  is 
not  that  he  resists  and  rebels,  but  that  he  obeys.  As 
poor  Henry  Marten  wrote  in  Chepstow  Castle  long, ago, 

"  Reader,  if  thou  an  oft-told  tale  will  trust, 
Thou'lt  gladly  do  and  suffer  what  thou  must." 


220  PARLIA3IENT3. 

Gladly ;  he  that  will  go  gladly  to  his  labor  and  his 
suffering,  it  is  to  him  alone  that  the  Upper  Powers 
are  favorable  and  the  Field  of  Time  will  yield  fruit. 
'An  oft-told  tale,'  friend  Harry  ;  all  tlie  noble  of  this 
world  have  known  it,  and  in  various  dialects  have 
striven  to  let  us  know  it !  The  essence  of  all  '  re- 
ligion '  that  was  and  that  will  be,  is  to  make  men 
free.  Who  is  he  that,  in  this  Life-pilgrimage,  will 
consecrate  himself  at  all  hazards  to  obey  God  and 
God's  servants,  and  to  disobey  the  Devil  and  his? 
With  pious  valor  this  free  man  walks  through  the 
roaring  tumults,  invincibly  the  way  whither  he  is 
bound.  To  him  in  the  waste  Saharas,  through  the 
grim  solitudes  peopled  by  galvanized  corpses  and  dole- 
ful creatures,  there  is  a  loadstar  ;  and  his  path,  what- 
ever those  of  others  be,  is  towards  the  Eternal.  A 
man  well  worth  consulting,  and  taking  the  vote  of, 
about  matters  temporal ;  and  properly  the  only  kind 
of  man.  Though  always  an  exceptional,  this  was 
once  a  well-known  man.  He  has  become  one  of  the 
rarest  now;  —  but  is  not  yet  entirely  extinct;  and 
will  become  more  plentiful,  if  the  gods  intend  to  keep 
this  Planet  habitable  long. 

Him  it  were  vain  to  try  to  find  always  without 
mistake  ;  alas,  if  he  were  in  the  majority,  this  world 
would  be  all  'a  school  of  virtue,'  which  it  is  far  from 
being.  Nevertheless  to  him,  and  in  all  times  to  him 
alone,  belongs  the  rule  of  this  world  :  tliat  he  be  got 
to  rule,  that  he  be  forbidden  to  rule  and  not  got, 
means  salvation  or  destruction  to  the  world.  Friend 
Peter,  I  am  perfectly  deliberate  in  calling  this  the 
truest  doctrine  of  the  constUution  you  have  ever 
heard.     And  I  recommend  you  to  learn  it  gradually, 


PARLIAMENTS.  321 

and  to  lay  it  well  to  heart;  for  without  it  there  is  no 
salvation,  and  all  other  doctrines  of  the  constitution 
are  leather  and  prunella.  Will  any  mass  of  Chancery 
parchments,  think  you,  of  respectablest  traditions  and 
Delolme  philosophies,  save  a  man  or  People  that  for- 
gets this,  from  the  eternal  fire  ?  There  does  burn 
such  a  fire  everywhere  under  this  green  earth-rind  of 
ours,  and  London  pavements  themselves  (as  Paris 
pavements  have  done)  can  start  up  into  sea-ridges, 
witli  a  horrible  '  trough  of  the  sea,'  if  the  fire-fiood 
urge ! 

To  this  man,  I  say,  belongs  eternally  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world.  Where  he  reigns,  all  is  blessed  ; 
and  the  gods  rejoice,  and  only  the  wicked  make  wail. 
Where  the  contrary  of  him  reigns,  all  is  accursed; 
and  the  gods  lament,  —  and  will,  by  terrible  methods, 
rectify  the  matter  by  and  by  !  Have  you  forbidden 
this  man  to  rule  ?  Obey  he  cannot  where  the  Devil 
and  his  servants  rule  ;  how  can  he  ?  He  must  die 
thrice  ruined,  damned  by  the  gods,  if  he  do.  He  will 
retire  rather,  into  deserts  and  rocky  inaccessibilities, 
companion  to  wild  beasts,  to  the  dumb  granites  and 
the  eternal  stars,  far  from  you  and  your  affairs.  You 
and  your  affairs,  once  well  quit  of  him,  go  by  a  swift 
and  ever  swifter  road  ! 

I  would  recommend  your  Lordship  to  attack 
straightway,  by  the  Industrial  Regiments  or  better 
otherwise,  that  huge  Irish  and  British  Pauper  Question, 
which  is  evidently  the  father  of  questions  for  us,  the 
lowest  level  in  our  '  universal  stygian  quagmire  ; '  and 
to   try    whether   (without    ballotbox)    there    are    no 


322  PARLIAMENTS. 

'  kings  '  discoverable  in  England  who  would  rally 
round  you,  in  practical  attempt  towards  draining  said 
(piagmiro  from  that  point.  And  to  be  swift  about  it  ; 
for  the  time  j)resses, — and  if  your  Lordship  is  not 
leady,  I  think  tlie  ballotboxes  and  the  six  points  are 
fast  getting  ready ! 


HUDSON'S    STATUE. 


At  St.  Ives  in  Huntingdonshire,  where  Oliver  Crom- 
well  farmed  and  resided  for  some  years,  the  people' 
have  determined  to  attempt  some  kind  of  memorial  to 
that  memorable  character.  Other  persons  in  other 
quarters  seem  to  be,  more  or  less  languidly,  taking  up 
the  question  ;  in  Country  Papers  I  have  read  emphatic 
leading-articles,  recommending  and  urging  that  there 
should  be  a  'People's  Statue'  of  this  great  Oliver, — 
Statue  furnished  by  universal  contribution  from  the 
English  People  ;  and  set  up,  if  possible,  in  London,  in 
Huntingdon,  or  failing  both  these  places,  in  St.  Ives, 
or  Naseby  Field.  Indeed  a  considerable  notion  seems 
to  exist  in  the  English  mind,  that  some  brass  or  stone 
acknowledgment  is  due  to  Cromwell,  and  ought  to  be 
paid  him.  So  that  the  vexed  question,  '  Shall  Crom- 
well have  a  Statue  ? '  appears  to  be  resuscitating  itself; 
and  the  weary  Public  must  prepare  to  agitate  it  again. 
Poor  English  Public,  they  really  are  exceedingly 
bewildered  with  Statues  at  present.  They  would  fain 
do  honor  to  somebody,  if  they  did  but  know  whom 
or  how.  Unfortunately  they  know  neither  whom  nor 
how  ;  they  are,  at  present,  the  farthest  in  the  world 
from  knowing  !  They  have  raised  a  set  of  the  ugli- 
est  Statues,   and  to  the  most  extraordinary  persons, 


321  HUDSON'  S    STATUE. 

ever  seen  iiiider  llie  sun  before.  Being  myself  ques- 
tioned, in  reference  to  the  New  Houses  of  Parliament 
some  years  ago,  •'  Shall  Cromwell  have  a  Statue  ?  "  I 
had  to  answer,  with  sorrowful  dubiety  :  "  Cromwell  ? 
Side-by  side  with  a  sacred  Charles  the  Second,  sacred 
George  the  Fourth,  and  the  other  sacred  Charleses, 
Jameses,  Georges,  and  Defenders  of  the  Faith,  —  I  am 
afraid  he  wouldn't  like  it!  Let  us  decide  provision- 
ally. No."  And  now  again  as  to  St.  Ives  and  the 
People's  Statue,  is  it  not  to  be  asked  in  like  manner: 
'•'Who  are  the  '  People  ?  '  Are  they  a  People  worthy 
to  build  Statues  to  Cromwell ;  or  worthy  only  of  doing 

it  to  Hudson  ?  " This  latter  is  a  consideration 

that  will  lead  ns  into  far  deeper  and  more  momentous 
than  sculptural  inquiries;  and  I  will  request  the  read- 
er's excellent  company  into  these  for  a  little. 

The  truth  is,  dear  Reader,  nowhere,  to  an  impartial 
observant  person,  does  the  deep-sunk  condition  of  the 
English  mind,  in  these  sad  epochs, —  and  how,  in  all 
spiritual  or  moral  provinces,  it  has  long  quitted  com- 
pany with  fact,  and  ceased  to  have  veracity  of  heart, 
and  clearness  or  sincerity  of  purpose,  in  regard  to  such 
matters,  —  more  signally  manifest  itself,  than  in  this 
affair  of  Public  Statues.  Whom  doth  the  king  de- 
light to  honor?  that  is  the  question  of  questions  con- 
cerning the  king's  own  honor.  Show  me  the  man 
you  honor;  I  know  by  that  symptom,  better  than  by 
any  other,  what  kind  of  man  you  yourself  are.  For/ 
you  show  me  there  what  your  ideal  of  manhood  is ; 
what  kind  of  man  you  long  inexpressibly  to  be,  and 
would  thank  the  gods,  with  your  whole  soul,  for  be- 
ing if  you  could. 


HUDSON  S    STATUE. 


325 


In  this  point  of  view,  it  was  always  matter  of  re- 
gret with  me  that  Hudson's  Statue,  among  the  other 
wonders  of  the  present  age,  was  not  completed.   The 
25,000/.  subscribed,  or  offered  as  oblation,  by  the  Hero- 
worshippers   of    England   to   their  Ideal   of   a    Man, 
awoke  many  questions  as  to   what  outward  figure  it 
could  most  profitably  take,  under  the  eternal  canopy  ; 
questions  never  finally  settled  ;  nor  ever  now  to  be 
settled,  now  when  the  universal  Hudson  ragnarok,  or 
'twilight  of  the  gods,'  has  arrived,  and  it  is  too  clear 
no  statue  or  cast-metal  image  of  that  Incarnation-  of 
the  English  Yishnu  will  ever  be  molten  now  !     Why 
was  it  not  set  up  ;  that  the  whole  world  might  see  it  ; 
that  our  '  Religion  '  might  be  seen,  mounted  on  some 
figure  of   a  Locomotive,  garnished  with    Scrip-rolls 
proper  ;  and  raised  aloft  in  some  conspicuous  place,  — 
for  example,  on  the  other  arch  at  Hyde-Park  Corner  ? 
By  all  opportunities,  especially  to  all  subscribers  and 
pious  sacrificers  to  the  Hudson  Testimonial,   I  have 
earnestly   urged  :  Complete  your  Sin-Offering  ;  buy, 
with  the   Five-and-twenty  Thousand  Pounds,   what 
utmost  amount  of  brazen  metal  and  reasonable  sculp- 
tural supervision  it  will  cover,  — say  ten  tons  of  brass, 
with  a  tolerable  sculptor  :  model  that,  with  what  ex- 
actness Art  can,  into  the  enduring  Brass  Portrait  and 
Express  Image  of  King  Hudson,  as  he  receives  the 
grandees  of  this  country  at  his  levees  or  soirees  and 
conchees  ;  mount  him  on   the  highest  place  you  can 
discover  in  the  most  crowded  thoroughfare,  on  what 
you  can  consider  the  pinnacle  of  the   English  world  : 
I  assure  you  he  will  have  beneficial  effects  there.    To 
all  men  who  are  struggling  for  your  approbation,  and 
fretting  their  poor  souls  to  fiddlestrings  because  you 
^8 


32G  Hudson's  stattte. 

will  not  sufficiently  give  it,  I  will  say.  leading  them 
to  tlie  foot  of  the  Hudson  mount  of  vision  :  ''  See, 
my  worthy  Mr.  Rigmarole;  consider  this  surprising 
Copper  Pyramid,  in  partly  human  form  :  did  the  ce- 
lestial value  of  men's  approbation  ever  strike  you  so 
forcibly  before  ?  The  neiv  Apollo  Belvidere  this,  or 
Ideal  of  the  Scrip  Ages.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ? 
Allah  Ilallah  ;  there  is  still  one  God,  you  see,  in  Eng- 
lat]d  ;  and  this  is  his  Prophet.  Let  it  be  a  source  of 
healing  to  you,  my  unhappy  Rigmarole  ;  draw  frcm 
it  '  uses  of  terror,'  as  the  old  divines  said  ;  uses  of 
amazement,  of  new  wisdom,  of  unutterable  reflection 
upon  the  present  epoch  of  the  world  !  " 

For,  in  fact,  there  was  more  of  real  worship  in  the 
affair  of  Hudson  than  is  usual  in  such.  The  practical 
English  mind  has  its  own  notions  as  to  the  Supreme 
Excellence  ;  knows  the  real  from  the  spurious  Avatar 
of  Yishnu ;  and  does  not  worship  without  its  reasons. 
The  practical  English  mind,  contemplating  its  divine 
Hudson,  says  with  what  remainder  of  reverence  is  in 
it  :  "  Yes,  you  are  sometliing  like  the  Ideal  of  a  Man; 
you  are  he  I  would  give  my  right  arm  and  leg,  and 
accept  a  potbelly,  with  gout,  and  an  appetite  for  strong- 
waters,  to  be  like  !  You  out  of  nothing  can  make  a 
world,  or  huge  fortune  of  gold.  A  divine  intellect  is 
in  you,  which  Earth  and  Heaven,  and  Capel  Court 
itself  acknowledge  ;  at  the  word  of  Avhich  are  done 
miracles.  You  find  a  dying  railway  ;  you  say  to  it. 
Live,  blossom  anew  with  scrip; — and  it  lives,  and 
blossoms  into  umbrageous  flowery  scrip,  to  enrich 
with  golden  apples,  surpassing  those  of  the  Hesperides, 
the  hungry  souls  of  men.  Diviner  miracle,  v/hat  god 
ever  did  ?     Hudson,  —  though  I  mumble  about  my 


Hudson's   statue.  327 

thirty-nine  articles,  and  the  service  of  otJicr  divinities, 
—  Hudson  is  my  god,  and  to  him  I  will  sacrifice  this 
twenty-pound  note  :  if  perhaps  he  will  be  propitious 
to  me  ? " 

Object  not  that  there  was  a  mixed  motive  in  tiiis 
worship  of  Hudson  ;  that  perhaps  it  was  not  worship 
at  all.  Undoubtedly  there  were  two  motives  mixed, 
but  both  of  them  sincere,  —  as  often  happens  in  wor- 
ship. 'Transcendent  admiration'  is  defined  as  the 
origin  of  sacrifice  ;  but  also  the  hope  of  profit  joins 
itself.  If  by  sacrificing  a  goat,  or  the  like  trifle,  to 
SupVeme  Jove,  you  can  get  Supreme  Jove's  favor,  will 
not  that,  for  one,  be  a  good  investment  ?  Jove  is  sacri- 
ficed to,  and  worshipped,  from  transcendent  admiration  : 
but  also,  in  part,  men  of  practical  nature  worship  him 
as  pumps  are  primed, — give  him  a  little  water,  that 
you  may  get  from  him  a  river.  O  godlike  Hudson,  O 
god-recognizing  England,  why  was  not  the  partly  an- 
thropomorphous Pyramid  of  Copper  cast,  then,  and  set 
upon  the  pinnacle  of  England,  that  all  men  might  have 
seen  it,  and  the  sooner  got  to  understand  these  things  ! 
The  Twenty-five  thousand  pound  oblation  lay  upon 
the  altar  at  the  Bank ;  this  monstrous  Copper  Vishnu 
of  the  Scrip  Ages  might  have  been  revealed  to  men, 
and  was  not.  Unexpected  obstacles  occurred.  In  fact, 
there  rose  from  the  general  English  soul,  —  lying  dumb 
and  infinitely  bewildered,  but  not  yet  altogether  dead, 
poor  wretch,  —  such  a  growl  of  inarticulate  amazement, 
at  this  unexpected  Hudson  Apotheosis,  as  alarmed  the 
pious  worshippers  ;  and  their  Copper  Pyramid  remains 
unrealized ;  not  to  be  realized  to  all  eternity  now,  or 
at  least  not  till  Chaos  come  again,  and  the  ancient 
mud-gods   have    dominion !      The  Ne-plus-ultra  of 


323  Hudson's    statue. 

Statue-building   was   within    sight  ;  but    it   was  not 
attained,  it  was  to  be  forever  unattainable. 

If  the  world  were  not  properly  ajiarchic,  this  ques- 
tion "  Who  shall  have  a  Statue?"  would  be  one  of  the 
greatest  and  most  solemn  for  it.  Who  is  to  have  a 
Statue  ?  means,  Whom  shall  we  consecrate  and  set  apart 
as  one  of  our  sacred  men  ?  Sacred  ;  that  all  men  may 
see  him,  be  reminded  of  him,  and,  by  new  example 
added  to  old  perpetual  precept,  be  taught  what  is  real 
worth  in  man.  Whom  do  you  wish  us  to  resemble  ? 
Him  you  set  on  a  high  column,  that  the  world  at  large 
may  be  continually  apprised  of  the  duty  you  expect 
from  it.  What  man  to  set  there,  and  what  man  to 
refuse  forevermore  the  leave  to  be  set  there  :  this,  if  a 
country  were  not  anarchic  as  we  say,  —  ruleless,  given 
np  to  the  rule  of  Chaos,  in  the  primordial  fibres  of  its 
being,  —  would  be  a  great  question  for  a  country! 

And  to  the  parties  themselves,  lightly  as  they  set 
about  it,  the  question  is  rather  great.  Whom  shall  I 
honor,  whom  shall  I  refuse  to  honor  ?  If  a  man  have 
any  precious  thing  in  him  at  all,  certainly  the  most  pre- 
cious of  all  tiie  gifts  he  can  offer  is  his  approbation,  his 
reverence  to  another  man.  This  is  his  very  soul,  this 
fealty  which  he  swears  to  another:  his  personality  it- 
self, with  whatever  it  has  of  eternal  and  divine,  he  bends 
here  in  reverence  before  another.  Not  lightly  will  a 
man  give  this,  —  if  he  is  still  a  man.  If  he  is  no  longer 
a  man,  but  a  greedy  blind  two-footed  animal,  '  with- 
out soul,  except  what  saves  him  the  expense  of  salt  and 
keeps  his  body  with  its  appetites  from  putrefying,'  — 
alas,  if  he  is  nothing  now  but  a  human  money-bag  and 
meat-trough,  it  is  different !     In  that  case  his   '  rever- 


Hudson's    statue.  329 

ence  '  is  worth  so  many  pounds  sterling ;  and  these,  hke 
a  gentleman,  he  will  give  willingly.  Hence  the  British 
Statnes,  sncli  a  populace  of  them  as  we  see.  Britii^li 
Statues,  and  some  other  more  important  things  !  Alas, 
of  how  many  un veracities,  of  what  a  world  of  iVrever- 
ence,  of  sordid  debasement,  and  death  in  'trespasses 
and  sins,'  is  this  light  iinveracious  bestowal  of  one's 
approbation  the  fatal  outcome  !  Fatal  in  its  origin  ;  in 
its  developments  and  thousandfold  results  so  fatal.  It 
is  the  poison  of  the  universal  Upas-tree,  under  which  all 
human  interests,  in  these  bad  ages,  lie  writhing  as  if  in 
the  last  struggle  of  death.  Street-barricades  rise  for 
that  reason,  and  counterfeit  kings  have  to  shave  off  their 
whiskers  and  fly  like  coiners ;  and  it  is  a  world  gone 
mad  in  misery,  by  bestowing  its  approbation  wrong ! 

Give  every  man  the  meed  of  honor  he  has  merited, 
you  have  the  ideal  world  of  poets;  a  hierarchy  of  benef- 
icences, your  noblest  man  at  the  summit  of  atfairs,  and 
in  every  place  the  due  gradation  of  the  fittest  for  that 
place  :  a  maximum  of  wisdom  works  and  administers, 
followed,  as  is  inevitable,  by  a  maximum  of  success. 
It  is  a  world  such' as  the  idle  poets  dream  of,  —  such 
as  the  active  poets,  t4ie  heroic  and  the  true  of  men,  are 
incessantly  toiling  to  achieve,  and  more  and  more  real- 
ize. Achieved,  realized,  it  never  can  be  ;  striven  after, 
and  approximated  to,  it  must  forever  be,  —  woe  to  us  if 
at  any  time  it  be  not  !  Other  aim  in  this  Earth  we 
have  none.  Renounce  such  aim  as  vain  and  hopeless, 
reject  it  altogether,  what  more  have  you  to  reject  ? 
You  have  renounced  fealty  to  Nature  and  its  Almighty 
Maker ;  you  have  said  practically,  "  We  can  flourish 
very  well  without  minding  Nature  and  her  ordinances  ; 
perhaps  Nature  and  the  Almighty  —  what  are  they  ?  A 
28* 


330  HUDSOX'S     STATUE. 

Phantasm  of  the  brain  of  Priests,  and  of  some  chi- 
merical persons  tliat  write  Books  ?" —  '-  Hold!  "  shriek 
others  wildly  :  '-You  incendiary  infidels  ;  —  yon  should 
be  (jniet  infidels,  and  believe  !  Haven't  we  a  Church  ? 
Don't  we  keep  a  Church,  this  long  while  ;  best-be- 
haved of  Churches,  which  meddles  with  nobody,  assid- 
uously grinding  its  organs,  reading  its  liturgies,  hom- 
iletics,  and  excellent  old  moral  horn-books,  so  patiently 
as  Churcli  never  did  ?  Can't  we  doff  our  hat  to  it; 
even  look  in  upon  it  occasionally,  on  a  wet  Sunday; 
and  so,  at  the  trifxing  charge  of  a  few  millions  annu- 
ally, serve  both  God  and  the  Devil  ?  Fools,  you 
should  be  quiet  infidels,  and  believe  !  " 

To  give  our  approval  aright,  —  alas,  to  do  every 
one  of  us  what  lies  in  him,  that  the  honorable  man 
everywhere,  and  he  only  have  honor,  that  the  able  man 
everywhere  be  put  into  the  place  which  is  fit  for  him, 
which  is  his  by  eternal  right  :  is  not  this  the  sum  of 
all  social  morality  for  every  citizen  of  this  world?  This 
one  duty  perfectly  done,  what  more  could  the  world 
liave  done  for  it  ?  The  world  in  all  departments  and 
aspects  of  it  w^ere  a  perfect  world  ;  everywhere  admin- 
istered by  the  best  wisdom  discernible  in  it,  every- 
where enjoying  the  exact  maximum  of  success  and 
felicity  possible  for  it.  Imperfectly,  and  not  perfectly 
done,  we  know,  this  duty  must  always  be.  Not  done 
at  all  ;  no  longer  remembered  as  a  thing  which  God 
and  Nature  and  the  Eternal  Voices  do  require  to  be 
done,  —  alas,  w^e  see  too  well  what  kind  of  a  world 
that  ultimately  makes  for  us  !  A  world  no  longer  hab- 
itable for  quiet  persons;  a  world  which  in  these  sad 
days  is  bursting  into  street-barricades,  and  pretty  rap- 
idly turning  out  its  'Honored  Men,'  as  intrusive  dogs 


Hudson's  statue.  331 

are  turned  cut,  with  a  kettle  tied  to  their  tail.  To 
Kings,  Kaisers,  Spiritual  Papas  and  Holy  Fat?iers, 
tliere  is  universal  ^'  Apage!  Depart  thou;  go  thou  tc 
the — Father  of  thee!"  in  a  huge  world-voice  of 
mob-musivetry  and  sooty  execration,  uglier  than  any 
ever  heard  before. 

Who's  to  have  a  Statue  ?  The  English,  at  present, 
answer  this  question  in  a  very  off-hand  manner.  So 
far  as  I  can  ascertain  the  method  they  have,  it  is 
somewhat  as  follows. 

Of  course,  among  the  many  idle  persons  to  whom 
an  unfortunate  world  has  given  money  and  no  work 
to  do,  there  must  be,  with  or  without  wisdom  (with- 
out, for  most  part),  a  most  brisk  demand  for  work. 
Work  to  do  is  very  desirable,  for  those  that  have  only 
money  and  not  work.  "  Alas,  one  cannot  buy  sleep 
in  the  market !  "  said  the  rich  Farmer-general.  Alas, 
one  cannot  buy  work  there  ;  work,  which  is  still  more 
indispensable.  One  of  these  unfortunates  with  money 
and  no  work,  whose  haunts  lie  in  the  dilettante  line, 
among  Artists'  Studios,  Picture-Sales,  and  the  like 
regions,  — an  inane  kingdom  nuich  frequented  by  the 
inane  in  these  times,  —  him  it  strikes,  in  some  inspired 
moment,  that  if  a  public  subscription  for  a  Statue  to 
Somebody  could  be  started,  good  results  would  follow. 
Perhaps  some  Artist,  to  whom  he  is  Mec83nas,  might 
be  got  to  do  tlie  Statue ;  at  all  events  there  would  be 
extensive  work  and  stir  going  on,  — whereby  the  in- 
spired dilettante,  for  his  own  share,  might  ^et  upon 
committees,  see  himself  named  in  the  newspapers  ; 
might  assist  in  innumerable  consultations,  open  utter- 
ances of  speech  and  balderdash ;  and  on  the  whole,  be 


£32  Hudson's  statue. 

comfortably  present,  for  years  to  come,  at  something 
of  the  nature  of  a  '  house  on  fire  : '  house  innocuously, 
nay  beneficently  on  fire  ;  a  very  Goshen  to  an  idle 
man  with  money  in  his  pocket. 

This  is  the  germ  of  the  idea ;  now  make  your  idea 
an  action.  Think  of  a  proper  Somebody.  Almost 
anybody  much  heard  of  in  the  newspapers,  and  never 
yet  convicted  of  felony  ;  a  conspicuous  commander- 
in-chief,  duke  no  matter  whether  of  Wellington  or  of 
York ;  successful  stump-orator,  political  intriguer ; 
lawyer  that  has  made  two  hundred  thousand  pounds ; 
scrip-dealer  that  has  made  two  thousand  thousand  :  — 
anybody  of  a  large  class,  we  are  not  particular,  he  will 
be  your  proper  Somebody.  You  are  then  to  get  a 
brother  idler  or  two  to  unite  his  twenty-pound  note  to 
yours  :  the  fire  is  kindled,  smoke  rises  through  the 
editorial  columns ;  the  fire,  if  you  blow  it,  will  break 
into  flame,  and  become  a  comfortable  house  on  fire 
for  you  ;  solacing  the  general  idle  soul,  for  years  to 
come  ;  and  issuing  in  a  big  hulk  of  Corinthian  brass, 
and  a  notable  instance  of  hero-worship,  by  and  by. 

Such  I  take  to  be  the  origin  of  that  extraordinary 
population  of  Brazen  and  other  Images  which  at  pres- 
ent dominate  the  market-places  of  towns,  and  solicit 
worship  from  the  English  People.  The  ugliest  im- 
ages, and  to  the  strangest  class  of  persons,  ever  set  up 
in  this  world.  Do  you  call  these  demigods  ?  England 
must  be  dreadfully  off  for  demigods  !  My  friend,  I 
will  not  do  the  smallest  stroke  of  worship  to  them. 
(Jug  in  the  thousand  I  will  snatch  out  of  bad  com- 
pany, if  I  ever  can  ;  the  other  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-nine  I  will  with  pious  joy,  in  the  like  case,  re- 
duce to  the  state  of  broken  metal- again,  and  veil  for- 


HUDS0>^'S    STATUE.  333 

ever  from  all  men.  As  warming-pans,  as  cheap  brass 
candlesticks,  men  will  get  good  of  this  metal ;  as  de- 
votionary  Images  in  such  form,  evil  only.  These  are 
not  heroes,  gods,  or  demigods  ;  and  it  is  a  horrible 
idolatry,  if  you  knew  it,  to  set  them  up  as  such  ! 

Are  these  your  Pattern  Men  ?  Great  Men  ?  They 
are  your  lucky  (or  unlucky)  Gamblers  swollen  big. 
Paltry  Adventurers  for  most  part ;  worthy  of  no  wor- 
ship ;  and  incapable  forever  of  getting  any,  except 
from  the  soul  consecrated  to  flunkeyism.  Will  a 
man's  soul  worship  that,  think  you?  Never;  if  you 
fashioned  him  of  solid  gold,  big  as  Benlomond,  no 
heart  of  a  man  would  ever  look  upon  him  except  with 
sorrow  and  despair.  To  the  flunkey-heart  alone  is 
he,  was  he  or  can  he  at  any  time  be,  a  thing  to  look 
upon  with  upturned  eyes  of  '  transcendent  admiration,' 
worship  or  worth-ship  so-called.  He,  you  unfortunate 
fools,  he  is  not  the  one  we  want  to  be  kept  in  mind 
of;  not  he. at  all  by  any  means  !  To  him  and  his 
memory,  —  if  you  had  not  been  unfortunate  and 
blockheads,  —  you  would  have  sunk  acoalshaft  rather 
than  raised  a  column.  Deep  coalsliaft,  there  to  bury 
him  and  his  memory,  that  men  might  never  speak  or 
hear  of  him  more  ;  not  a  high  column  to  admonish 
all  men  that  they  should  try  to  resemble  him ! 

Of  the  sculptural  talent  manifest  in  these  Brazen 
Images  I  say  nothing,  though  much  were  to  be  said. 
For  indeed,  if  there  is  no  talent  displayed  in  them  but 
a  perverse  one,  are  we  not  to  consider  it  a  happiness, 
in  that  strange  case  ?  This  big  swollen  Gambler,  and 
gluttonous  hapless  'spiritual  Daniel  Lambert,'  de- 
served a  coalshaft  from  his  brother  mortals  :    let   at 


331 

least  his  column  be  ugly!  —  Nevertheless  ngly  col- 
umns and  images  are,  in  themselves,  a  real  evil.  They 
too  preach  ugliness  after  their  sort  ;  and  have  a  certain 
elfect,  the  whole  of  which  is  bad.  They  sanction 
and  consecrate  artistic  botching,  pretensions  futility, 
and  the  horrible  doctrine  that  this  Universe  is  Cockney 
Nightmare,  —  which  no  creature  ought  for  a  moment 
to  believe,  or  listen  to  !  In  brief,  they  encourage  an 
already  ugly  Population  to  become  in  a  thousand  ways 
uglier.  They  too,  for  their  ugliness,  —  did  not  the  infi- 
nitely deeper  ugliness  of  the  thing  they  commemorate 
absorb  all  consideration  of  that,  —  would  deserve,  and 
do  in  fact  incessantly  solicit,  abolition  from  the  sight 
of  men. 

What  good  in  the  aesthetic,  the  moral,  social  or  any 
human  point  of  view,  we  are  ever  to  get  of  these 
Brazen  Images  now  peopling  our  chief  cities  and  their 
market-places,  it  is  impossible  to  s[)ecify.  Evil  enough 
we,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  get  of  them;  no  soul 
looks  upon  them  approvingly  or  even  indilferently 
without  damage,  all  the  deadlier  the  less  he  knows  of 
it.  Simple  souls  they  corrupt  in  the  sources  of  their 
spiritual  being  :  wise  souls,  obliged  to  look  on  them, 
look  with  some  feeling  of  anger  and  just  abhorrence  ; 
which  is  itself  a  mischief  to  a  peaceable  man.  Good 
will  never  be  got  of  these  Brazen  Images  in  their 
present  form.  Of  what  use,  till  once  broken  up  and 
melted  into  warming-pans,  they  can  ever  be  to  gods 
or  me:),  I  own  I  camiot  see.  Gods  and  men  demand 
th.at  this,  wliich  is  their  sure  ultimate  destiny,  should 
60  soon  as  possible  be  realized. 


Hudson's  statue.  335 

It  is  tragically  evident  to  me,  our  first  want,  which 
includes  all  Avants,  is  that  of  a  new  real  Aristocracy 
of  fact,  instead  of  the  extinct  imaginary  one  of  title 
which  the  anarchic  world  is  everywhere  rebelling 
against  :  but  if  it  is  from  Popular  Suffrage  that  we 
are  to  look  for  such  a  blessing,  is  not  this  extraordi- 
nar}^  populace  of  British  'Statues,  which  now  domi- 
nates our  market-places,  one  of  the  saddest  omene 
that  ever  was  ?  Suffrage  annoimces  to  us,  nothing 
doubting  :  "  Here  are  your  real  demigods  and  heroic 
men,  ye  famous  British  People  ;  here  are  Brazen  and 
other  Images  worthy  once  more  of  some  worship  ; 
this  is  the  Zsew  Aristocracy  I  have  chosen,  and  would 
choose,  for  you  !"  That  is  Snffi-age's  opinion.  To 
me  this  populace  of  British  Statues  rises  aloft  over 
the  Chaos  of  our  affairs  like  the  living  symbol  and 
consummate  flower  of  said  Chaos,  and  silently  speaks 
the  mournfnllest  prophecy.  Perhaps  as  strange  a  Pan- 
theon of  brass  gods  as  was  ever  got  together  in  this 
world.  They  stand  there,  poor  wretches,  gradually 
rusting  in  the  sooty  rain;  black  and  dismal,  —  when 
one  thinks  of  them  in  some  haggard  mood  of  the  im- 
agination, —  like  a  set  of  grisly  undertakers  come  to 
bury  the  dead  spiritualisms  of  mankind.  There  stand 
they,  in  all  weathers,  indicating  to  the  British  Popu- 
lation such  a  Heaven  and  such  an  Earth  as  probably 
no  Population  ever  had  before.  In  the  social,  politi- 
cal, religious,  artistic,  and  other  provinces  of  our 
affairs,  they  point  toward  depths  of  .prostrate  abase- 
ment which  no  man's  thought  has  yet  sounded.  .  Let 
us  timidly  glance  thitherward  a  little  ;  gaze,  for  mo- 
ments, into  those  abysses  of  spiritual  death,  —  which 
if  we  cannot  one  day  sound  them,  and  subdue  them, 


^^6  Hudson's  statue. 

will  ingulf  us  all !  —  4iid   first   as  to  this  recipe  of 
Popular  Election. 

Hudson  the  railway  king,  if  Popular  Election  be 
the  rule,  seems  to  be  by  far  the  most  authentic  king 
extant  in.  this  world.  Hudson  has  been  '  elected  by 
the  people  '  so  as  almost  none  other  is  or  was.  Hud- 
son solicited  no  vote  ;  his  votes  were  silent  voluntary 
ones,  not  liable  to  be  false :  he  did  a  thing  whicb  men 
found,  in  their  inarticulate  hearts,  to  be  worthy  of  pay- 
ing money  for  ;  and  they  paid  it.  What  the  desire 
of  every  heart  was,  Hudson  had  or  seemed  to  have 
produced  :  Scrip  out  of  which  profit  could  be  made. 
They  '  voted  '  for  him  by  purchasing  his  scrip  with  a 
profit  to  him.  Every  vote  was  the  spontaneous  prod- 
uct of  those  men's  deepest  insights  and  most  practi- 
cal convictions,  about  Hudson  and  then)selves  and 
this  Universe  :  I  say,  it  was  not  a  spoken  vote,  but  a 
silently  acted  one  ;  a  vote  for  once  incapable  of  being 
insincere.  What  their  appetites,  intelligences,  stupid- 
ities and  pruriences  had  taught  these  men,  they  au- 
thentically told  you  there.  I  beg  you  to  mark  that 
well.  Not  by  all  the  ballotboxes  in  Nature  could  you 
have  hoped  to  get,  with  such  exactness,  from  these 
men,  what  the  deepest  inarticulate  voice  of  the  gods 
and  of  the  demons  in  them  was,  as  by  this  their  spon- 
taneous purchase  of  scrip.  It  is  the  ultimate  rectified 
quintessence  of  these  men's  '  votes  ;  '  the  distillation 
of  their  very  souls  ;  the  sincerest  sincerity  that  v/as 
in  them.  Without  gratitude  to  Hudson,  or  even  with- 
out thought  of  him,  they  raised  Hudson  to  his  bad 
eminence,  not  by  their  voice  given  once  at  some  hus- 
tings, under  the  intlnence  of  balderdash  and  beer,  but 


HUDSON  i.    LTATTJfi.  337 

by  the  thought  of  their  heart,  by  the  inarticulate, 
indisputable  dictate  of  their  whole  being.  Hudson 
in(|uircd  of  England  :  "  What  precious  tiling  can  I  do 
for  you,  O  enhghtened  Countrymen  ;  what  may  be 
the  vakie  to  you,  by  popular  election,  of  this  stroke 
of  work  that  lies  in  me  ?  "  Popular  election,  with 
universal,  with  household  and  other  suffrage,  free  as 
air,  deep  as  life  and  death,  free  and  deep  as  spoken 
suffrage  never  was  or  could  be,  has  answered : 
"Pounds  sterling  to  such  and  such  amount  ;  that  is 
tlie  apparent  value  of  thy  stroke  of  work  to  us,  — 
blockheads  as  we  are."  Real  value  differs  from  appar- 
ent to  a  frightful  extent  in  this  world,  try  it  by  what 
suffrage  you  will  ! 

Hudson's  value  as  a  demigod  being  what  it  was,  his 
value  as  a  maker  of  railways  shall  hardly  concern  us 
here.  What  Hudson's  real  worth  to  mankind  in  the 
matter  of  railways  might  be,  I  cannot  pretend  to  say. 
Fact  knows  it  to  the  uttermost  fraction,  and  will  pay 
it  him  yet  ;  but  men  differ  widely  in  opinion,  and  in 
general  do  not  in  the  least  know.  From  my  own 
private  observation  and  conjecture,  I  should  say, 
Trifling  if  any  worth. 

Much  as  we  love  railways,  there  is  one  thing  unde- 
niable: Railways  are  shifting  all  Towns  of  Britain 
into  new  places;  no  Town  will  stand  where  it  did, 
and  nobody  can  tell  for  a  long  while  yet  where  it  will 
stand.  This  is  an  unexpected,  and  indeed  most  dis- 
astrous result.  I  perceive,  railways  have  set  all  the 
Towns  of  Britain  a-dancing.  Reading  is  coming  up 
to  London.  Basingstoke  is  going  d«wn  to  Gosport  or 
Southampton,  Dumfries  to  Liverpool  and  Glasgow; 
29 


338  Hudson's  statue. 

while  at  Crewe,  and  other  points.  I  see  new  ganglions 
of  human  population  establishing  themselves,  and  the 
prophecy  of  metallnrgic  cities  which  were  not  heard 
of  before.  Reading,  Basingstoke  and  the  rest,  the 
inifortunate  Towns,  subscribed  money  to  get  railways  ; 
and  it  proves  to  be  for  cutting  their  own  throats. 
Their  business  has  gone  elsewhither  ;  and  they  —  can- 
not stay  behind  their  business  !  They  are  set  a-dan- 
cing,  as  I  said  ;  confusedly  waltzing,  in  a  state  of 
progressive  dissolution,  towards  the  four  winds  ;  and 
knoV  not  where  the  end  of  the  death-dance  will  be 
for  them,  in  what  point  of  space  tliey  will  be  allowed 
to  rebuild  them.^elves.      That  is  their  sad  case. 

And  what  an  affair  it  is  in  each  of  the  shops  and 
houses  of  those  Towns,  thus  silently  bleeding  to 
death,  or  what  we  call  dancing  away  to  other  points 
of  the  British  territory  :  how  Joplin  of  Reading,  who 
had  anchored  himself  in  that  pleasant  place,  and 
fondly  hoping  to  live  by  upholstery  and  paperhanging, 
had  wedded,  and  made  friends  there, — awakens  some 
morning,  and  finds  that  his  trade  has  flitted  away  ! 
Here  it  is  not  any  longer  ;  it  is  gone  to  London,  to 
Bristol  :  whither  has  it  gone  ?  Joplin  knows  not 
whither  ;  knows  and  sees  only  that  gone  it  is  ;  and  that 
lie  by  preternatural  sagacity  must  scent  it  out  again,  fol- 
low it  over  the  world,  and  catch  it  again,  or  else  die. 
Sad  news  for  Joplin  :  —  indeed  I  fear,  should  his  saga- 
city be  too  inconsiderable,  he  is  not  unlikely  to  break  his 
heart,  or  take  to  drinking,  in  these  inextricable  circum- 
stances !  And  it  is  the  history,  more  or  less,  in  every 
town,  house,  shop  and  industrial  dwelling-place  of 
the  British  Empire  at  this  moment  ;  —  and  the  cipher 
of  afflicted  Joplins ;  and  the  amount  of  private  dis- 


Hudson's  statue.  339 

tress,  uncertainty,  discontent  ;  and  withal  of  '  revolu- 
tionary movement  '  created  hereby,  is  tragical  to 
think  of.  This  is  '  revohitionary  movement  '  with  a 
witness;  revolution  brought  home  to  everybody's 
hearth  and  moneysafe,  and  heart  and  stomach.  — 
Which  miserable  result,  with  so  many  others  from  the 
same  source,  what  method  was  there  of  avoiding  or 
indefinitely  mitigating?  This  surely,  as  the  begin- 
ning of  all  :  That  you  had  made  your  railways  not 
in  haste  ;  that,  at  least,  you  had  spread  the  huge  pro- 
cess, sure  to  alter  all  men's  mutual  position  and  rela- 
tions, over  a  reasonable  breadth  of  time  ! 

For  all  manner  of  reasons,  how  much  could  one 
have  wished  that  the  making  of  our  British  railways 
had  gone  on  with  deliberation  ;  that  these  great  works 
had  made  themselves  not  in  five  years,  but  in  fifty 
and  five!  Hudson's  'worth'  to  railways,  I  think, 
will  mainly  resolve  itself  into  this,  That  he  carried 
them  to  completion  within  the  former  short  limit  of 
time;  that  he  got  them  made,  —  in  extremely  im- 
proper directions  I  am  told,  and  surely  with  endless 
confusion  to  the  innumerable  passive  Joplins,  and 
likewise  to  the  numerous  active  scrip-holders,  a  wide- 
spread class,  once  rich,  now  coinless,  — hastily  in  five 
years,  not  deliberately  in  fifty-five.  His  worth  to 
railways?  His  worth,  I  take  it,  to  English  railways, 
much  more  to  English  men,  will  turn  out  to  be  ex- 
tremely inconsiderable  ;  to  be  incalculable  damage 
rather  !  Foolish  railway  people  gave  him  two  mil- 
lions, and  thought  it  not  enough  without  a  Statue  to 
boot.  But  Fact  thought,  and  is  now  audibly  saying, 
far  otherwise  !  Rhadamanthus,  had  you  been  able  to 
consult  him,  would  in  nowise  have   given  this  man 


340  IIUDSOIJ'S    STATUE. 

twenty-five  thousand  pounds  for  a  Statue.  What  if 
Rhadamanthns  doomed  him  rather,  let  us  say,  to  ride 
ill  Express-trains,  novvhither,  for  twenty-five  a3ons,  or 
to  hang  in  Heaven  as  a  Locomotive  Constellation,  and 
be  a  sign  forever ! 

Fact  and  Suffrage  :  what  a  discrepancy  !  Fact  de- 
cided for  some  coalshaft  such  as  we  describe.  Suf- 
frage decides  for  such  a  column.  Suffrage  having 
money  in  its  pocket,  carries  it  hollow,  for  the  moment. 
And  so  there  is  Rayless  Majesty  exalted  far  above  the 
cliimney-pots,  with  a  potential  Copper  Likeness, 
twenty-five  thousand  pounds  worth  of  copper  over 
and  above  ;  and  a  King  properly  belonging  only  to 
tliis  epoch.  —  That  there  are  greedy  blockheads  in 
huge  majority,  in  all  epochs,  is  certain  ;  but  that  any 
sane  mortal  should  think  of  counting  their  heads  to 
ascertain  who  or  what  is  to  be  King,  this  is  a  little 
peculiar.  All  Democratic  men,  and  members  of  the 
Suffrage  Movement,  it  appears  to  me,  are  called  upon 
to  think  seriously,  with  a  seriousness  approaching  to 
despair,  of  these  things. 

Jefferson  Brick,  the  American  editor,  twitted  me 
Avith  the  multifarious  patented  anomalies  of  overgrown 
worthless  Dukes,  Bishops  of  Durham,  &c.,  which 
poor  English  Society  at  present  labors  under,  and  is 
made  a  solecism  by.  To  which  Avhat  answer  could 
I  make,  except,  that  surely  our  patented  anomalies 
were  some  of  them  extremely  ugly,  and  yet,  alas, 
that  they  were  not  the  ugliest!  I  said:  "Have  not 
you  also  overgrown  anomalous  Dukes  after  a  sort,  ap- 
pointed not  by  patent  ?  Overgrown  Monsters  of 
Wealth,  namely  ;  who  have  made  money  by  dealing 
in  cotton,   dealing  in  bacon,  jobbing  scrip,  digging 


3U 

metal  in  California;  who  are  become  glittering  man- 
mountains  filled  with  gold  and  preciosities;  revered 
by  the  surrounding  flunkeys;  invested  with  the  i-cal 
powers  of  sovereignty;  and  placidly  admitted  by  all 
men,  as  if  Nature  and  Heaven  had  so  appointed  it.  to 
be  in  a  sense  godlike,  to  be  royal,  and  fit  to  shine  in 
the  firmament,  though  their  real  worth  is  —  what? 
Brick,  do  you  know  where  human  creatures  reach  the 
supreme  of  ugliness  in  Idols  ?  It  were  hard  to  know  ! 
We  can  say  only,  All  Idols  have  to  tumble,  and  the 
hugest  of  them  with  the  heaviest  fall :  that  is  our 
chief  comfort,  in  America  as  here. 

''  The  Idol  of  Somnauth,  a  mere  mass  of  coarse 
crockery  not  worth  five  shillings  of  anybody's  money, 
sat  like  a  great  staring  god,  with  two  diamonds  for 
eyes  ;  worshipped  by  the  neighboring  black  popula- 
tions; a  terror  and  divine  mystery  to  all  mortals,  till 
its  day  came.  Till  at  last,  victorious  in  the  name 
of  Allah,  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  riding  up 
with  grim  battle-axe  and  heart  full  of  Moslem  fire, 
took  the  liberty  to  smite  once,  with  right  force  and 
rage,  said  ugly  mass  of  idolatrous  crockery;  which 
thereupon  shivered,  with  unmelodious  crash  and  jin- 
gle, into  a  heap  of  ugly  potsherds,  yielding  from  its 
belly  half  a  wagon-load  of  gold  coins.  Yuu  can  read 
it  in  Gibbon, — probably,  too.  in  Lord  Ellenborough. 
The  gold  coins,  the  diamond  eyes,  and  other  valuable 
extrinsic  parts  were  carefully  picked  up  by  the  Faith- 
ful ;  confused  jingle  of  intrinsic  potsherds  was  left 
lying;  —  and  the  Idol  of  Somnauth  once  showing 
what  it  ivas^  had  suddenly  come  to  a  conclusion  ! 
Thus  end  all  Idols,  and  intrinsically  worthless  man- 
mountains  never  so  illuminated  with  diamonds,  and 


312  HUDSON  S    STATUE. 

filled  with  precious  metals,  and  tremulously  wor- 
shipped by  the  neighboring  flunkey  populations  black 
or  white  ;  —  even  thus,  sooner  or  later,  without  fail  ; 
and  are  shot  hastily,  as  a  heap  of  potsherds,  into  the 
highway,  to  be  crunched  under  wagon-wheels,  and  do 
Macadam  a  little  service,  being  clearly  abolished  as 
gods,  and  hidden  from  man's  recognition,  in  that  or 
other  capacities,  forever  and  a  day ! 

''You  do  not  sufficiently  bethink  you,  my  repub- 
lican friend.  Our  ugliest  anomalies  are  done  by  uni- 
versal suftVage,  not  by  patent.  The  express  nonsense 
of  old  Feudalism,  even  now,  in  its  dotage,  is  as  noth- 
ing to  the  involuntary  nonsense  of  modern  Anarchy 
called  '  Freedom,'  '  Republicanism,'  and  other  fine 
names,  which  expresses  itself  by  supply  and  demand  ! 
Consider  it  a  little. 

"  The  Bishop  of  our  Diocese  is  to  me  an  incredible 
man ;  and  has,  I  will  grant  you,  very  much  more 
money  than  you  or  I  would  now  give  him  for  his 
work.  One  does  not  even  read  those  Charges  of  his  ; 
much  preferring  speech  which  is  articulate.  In  fact, 
being  intent  on  a  quiet  life,  you  generally  keep  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hedge  from  him,  and  strictly  leave 
him  to  his  own  fate.  Not  a  credible  man;  —  perhaps 
not  quite  a  safe  man  to  be  concerned  with  ?  But 
what  think  you  of  the  '  Bobus  of  Houndsditch'  of 
our  parts?  He,  Sausage-maker  on  the  great  scale, 
knows  the  art  of  cutting  fat  bacon,  and  exposing  it 
seasoned  with  gray  pepper  to  adv^antage.  Better  than 
any  other  man  he  knows  this  art ;  and  I  take  the  lib- 
erty to  say  it  is  a  poor  one.  Well,  the  Bishop  has  an 
income  of  five  thousand  pounds  appointed  him  for 
his  work  ;  and  Bobus,  to  such  a  length  has  he  now 


Hudson's  statue.  313 

pushed  the  trade  in  sausages,  gains  from  the  universal 
suffrage  of  men's  souls  and  stomachs  ten  thousand  a 
year  by  it. 

"A  poor  art,  tliis  of  Bobus's,  I  say  ;  and  worth  no 
such  recompense.  For  it  is  not  even  good  sausages 
he  makes,  but  only  extremely  vendible  ones  ;  the 
cuiniing  dog  !  Judges  pronounce  his  sausages  bad, 
and  at  the  cheap  price  even  dear  ;  and  finer  palates, 
it  is  whispered,  have  detected  alarming  symptoms  of 
horsetlesh,  or  worse,  under  this  cunningly  devised 
gray-pepper  spice  of  his  ;  so  that  for  the  world  I 
would  not  eat  one  of  his  sausages,  nor  would  you. 
You  perceive  he  is  not  an  excellent  honest  sausage- 
maker,  but  a  dishonest  cunning  and  scandalous  sau- 
sage-maker ;  worthy  if  he  could  get  his  deserts,  who 
shall  say  what  ?  Probably  certain  shillings  a-week,  say 
forty;  possibly  (one  shudders  to  think)  a  long  round 
in  the  tread-mill,  and  stripes  instead  of  shillings ! 
And  yet  what  he  gets,  I  tell  you,  from  universal  suf- 
frage and  the  unshackled  ne-plus-ultra  republican  jus- 
tice of  mankind,  is  twice  the  income  of  that  anoma- 
lous Bishop  3A0U  were  talking  of ! 

'^  The  Bishop  I  for  my  part  do  much  prefer  to  Bo- 
bus.  The  Bishop  has  human  sense  and  breeding  of 
various  kinds  ;  considerable  knowledge  of  Greek,  if 
you  should  ever  want  the  like  of  that ;  knowledge  of 
many  things;  and  speaks  the  English  language  in  a 
grammatical  manner.  He  is  bred  to  courtesy,  to  dig- 
nified composure,  as  to  a  second  nature  ;  a  gentleman 
every  hbre  of  him  ;  which  of  itself  is  something  very 
consideral)le.  The  Bishop  does  really  diffuse  round 
him  an  influence  of  decorum,  courteous  patience,  solid 
adherence  to  what  is  settled;  teaches  practically  the 


344 

necessity  of  '  burning  one's  own  smoke ; '  and  does 
practically  in  his  own  case  burn  said  smoke,  making 
lambent  flame  and  mild  illumination  out  of  it,  for  tlie 
good  of  men  in  several  particulars.  While  Bobus, 
for  twice  the  annual  money, — brings  sausages,  possi- 
bly of  horseflesh,  cheaper  to  market  than  anotlier!  — 
Brick,  if  yon  will  reflect,  it  is  not  'aristocratic  Eng- 
land,' it  is  the  united  Posterity  of  Adam  who  are 
grown,  in  some  essential  respects,  stupider  than  bar- 
bers' blocks.  Barbers'  blocks  would  at  least  say  noth- 
ing, and  not  elevate,  by  their  universal  sufirages,  an 
unfortunate  Bobus  to  that  bad  height !  " 

Alas,  if  such,  not  in  their  loose  tongues,  but  in  their 
heart  of  hearts,  is  men's  way  of  judging  about  social 
worth,  what  kind  of  '  new  Aristocracy  '  will  the  incon- 
ceivablest  perfection  of  spoken  SuflVage  ever  yield  us  ? 
Suff'rage,  I  perceive  well,  has  quite  other  things  in  store 
for  us  ;  we  need  not  torment  poor  Suflrage  for  this 
thing  !     Our  Intermittent  Friend  says  once  : 

'Men  do  not  seem  to  be  aware  that  this  their  uni- 
versal ousting  of  unjust,  incapable  and  in  fact  imagi- 
nary Governors,  is  to  issue  in  the  attainment  of  Gov- 
ernors who  have  a  r'trht  and  a  capacity  to  govern. 
Far  diflerent  from  that  jc  'he  issue  men  contemplate  in 
their  present  revolutionary  operations.  Their  univer- 
sal notion  now  is  that  we  shall  henceforth  do  without 
Governors ;  that  we  have  got  to  a  new  epoch  in  hu- 
man progress,  in  which  Governing  is  entirely  a  super- 
fluity, and  the  attempt  at  doing  it  is  an  ofl'ence,  think 
several.  By  that  admirable  invention  of  the  Consti- 
tutional Parliament,  first  struck  out  in  England,  and 
now  at  length  hotly  striven  for  and  zealously  imitated 
in  all  European  countries,  the   task  of  Government, 


HUDSO^^  S    STATUE.  31) 

any  task  there  may  still  be,  is  done  to  our  hand. 
Perfect  your  Pailiament,  cry  all  men  :  apply  the  Bal- 
lotboxaiid  Universal  SnfFrage  !  the  admirablest  method 
ever  imagined  of  counting  lieads  and  gathering  indu- 
bitable votes:  you  will  thus  gather  the  vote,  vox  or 
voice,  of  all  the  two-legged  animals  without  feathers 
in  your  dominion  ;  what  they  think  is  what  the  gods 
think,  —  is  it  not  ?  —  and  this  you  shall  go  and  do. 

'  Whereby,  beyond  dispute,  your  Governor's  task 
is  immensely  simplified;  and  indeed  the  chief  thing 
yon  can  now  require  of  yo-ur  Governor  is  that  he  care- 
fully preserve  his  good  humor,  and  do  in  a  handsome 
manner  nothing,  or  some  pleasant  fugle-motions  only. 
Is  not  this  a  '•  machine  ;  "  marking  new  epochs  in  the 
progress  of  discovery  ?  Machine  for  doing  Govern- 
ment too,  as  we  now  do  all  things  by  "  machinery." 
Only  keep  your  free-presses,  ballotboxes,  upright-shafts 
and  cogwork  in  an  oiled  unobstructed  condition  ;  mo- 
tive-power of  popular  wind  will  do  the  rest.  Here 
verily  is  a  mill  that  beats  Birmingham  hollow  ;  and 
marks  "new  epochs"  with  a  witness.  What  a  hop- 
per this!  Reap  from  all  fields  whatsoever  you  find 
standing,  thistledowns,  dockseed,  hemlockseed,  wheat, 
rye  ;  tumble  all  into  the  hopper,  —  see,  in  soft  blissful 
continuous  stream,  meal  shall  daily  issue  for  you,  and 
the  bread  of  life  to  mankind  be  sure  ! '  — 

The  aim  of  all  reformers,  parliamentary  and  other, 
is  still  defined  by  them  as  'just  legislation,' just  laws  ; 
with  which  definition  who  can  quarrel  ?  They  will  not 
have  'class  legislation,'  which  is  a  dreadfully  bad 
thing  ;  but  '  all-classes  legislation,'  I  suppose,  which  is 
the  right  thing.  Sure  enough,  just  laws  are  an  excel- 
lent attainment,  t!ie  first  condition  of  all  prosperity  for 


316  Hudson's  statue. 

Iiiunan  creatures:  but  few  reflect  how  extremely  dif- 
ficult surli  attaiumeut  is  !  Alas,  could  we  once  get 
laws  which  were  just,  that  is  to  say,  which  were  the 
clear  transcript  of  the  Divine  Laws  of  the  Universe 
itself;  so  that  each  man  were  incessantly  admonished, 
under  strict  penalties,  by  all  men,  to  walk  as  the  Eter- 
nal Maker  had  prescribed  ;  and  he  alone  received  hon- 
or whom  the  Maker  had  made  honorable,  and  whom 
the  Maker  had  made  disgraceful,  disgrace  :  alas,  were 
not  here  the  very  ^Aristocracy'  we  seek?  A  new 
veritable  Hierarchy  of  Heaven,  —  approximately  such 
in  very  truth,  —  bringing  Earth  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  blessed  Law  of  Heaven.  Heroic  men,  the  Sent 
of  Heaven,  once  more  bore  rule  :  and  on  the  throne 
of  kings  there  sat  splendent,  not  King  Hudson,  or 
King  Popinjay,  but  the  Bravest  of  existing  Men  ;  and 
on  the  gibbet  there  swung  as  a  tragic  pendulum,  ad- 
monitory to  Earth  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  —  not  some 
insignificant,  abject,  necessitous  outcast,  who  liad  vio- 
lently, in  his  extreme  misery  and  darkness,  stolen  a 
leg  of  mutton,  — but  veritably  the  Supreme  Scoundrel 
of  the  CommonAvealth,  who  in  his  insatiable  greed  and 
bottomless  atrocity  had  long,  hoodwinking  the  poor 
world,  gone  himself,  and  led  multitudes  to  go,  in  the 
ways  of  gilded  human  baseness;  seeking  temporary 
profit  (scrip,  first-class  claret,  social  honor,  and  the  like 
small  ware),  where  only  eternal  loss  was  possible  ;  and 
who  now,  stripped  of  all  his  gildings  and  cunningly- 
devised  s})eciosities,  swung  there  an  ignominious  de- 
tected scoundrel;  testifying  aloud  to  all  the  earth: 
"  Be  not  scoundrels,  not  even  gilt  scoundrels,  any  one 
of  you  ;  for  God,  and  not  the  Devil,  is  verily  king,  and 
this  is  where  it  ends,  if  even  this  be  the  end  of  it  I" 


Hudson's  statue.  347 

O  Heaven,  O  Earth,  what  an  -attainment'  were 
here,  could  we  but  liope  to  see  it!  Reformed  Parha- 
ment,  People's  League,  Hume-Cobdeu  agitation,  tre- 
mendous cheers,  new  Battles  ofNaseby,  Frencii  Revo- 
lution, and  Horrors  of  French  Revolution, — all  things 
vv^ere  cheap  and  light  to  the  attainment  of  this.  For 
this  were  in  fact  the  millennium  ;  and  indeed  nothing 
less  than  this  can  be  it. 

But  I  say  it  is  dreadfully  difficult  to  attain  !  And 
though  'class-legislation  '  is  not  it,  yet,  alas,  neither 
is  'all-classes  legislation'  in  the  least  certain  to  be  it. 
All  classes,  if  they  happen  not  to  be  wise,  heroic 
classes, — how,  by  the  cunningest  jumbling  of  them 
together,  will  you  ever  get  a  wisdom  or  heroism 
out  of  them  ?  Once  more  let  me  remind  you,  it  is 
impossible  forever.  Unwisdom,  contradiction  to  the 
gods  :  how,  from  the  mere  vamping  together  of  hos- 
tile voracities  and  opacities,  never  so  dexterously  or 
copiously  combined,  can  or  could  yon  expect  any 
thing  else  ?  Can  any  man  bring  a  clean  thing  out  of 
an  unclean  ?  No  man.  Voracities  and  opacities, 
blended  together  in  never  such  cunningly  devised 
proportions,  will  not  yield  noblenesses  and  illumina- 
tions ;  they  cannot  do  it.  Parliamentary  reform,  ex- 
tension of  the  suffrage  ?  Good  Heavens,  how  by 
the  mere  enlargement  of  your  circle  of  ingredients, 
by  the  mere  flinging  in  of  new  opacities  and  voraci- 
ties, will  you  have  a  better  chance  to  distil  a  wisdom 
from  that  foul  caldron,  which  is  merely  bigger,  not 
by  hypothesis  better  ?  You  will  have  abetter  chance 
to  distil  2rcro  from  it;  evil  elements  from  all  sides, 
now  more  completely  extinguishing  one  another,  so 
that   mutual  destruction,  like  that  of  the  Kilkenny 


348  /  HUDSo^•''s  statue. 

cats,  a  PaHiament  which  produces  parHamentary  elo- 
quence only,  and  no  social  guidance,  either  bad  or 
good,  will  be  the  issue,  —  as  we  now  in  these  years 
sorrowfully  ^ee. 

Universal  suffrage  :  what  a  scheme  to  substitute  for 
the  revelation  of  God's  eterngl  Law,  the  official  .dec- 
laration of  the  account  of  heads  !  It  is  as  if  men' 
had  abdicated  their  right  to  attempt  following  the 
above-said  Law,  and  with  melancholy  resignation  had 
agreed  to  give  it  up,  and  take  temporary  peace  and 
good  agreement  as  a  substitute.  In  all  departments  of 
our  affairs  it  is  so,  —  literary,  moral,  political,  social  ; 
and  in  all  of  them  it  is  and  remains  eternally  wrong. 
In  every  department,  literary,  moral,  political,  social, 
the  man  that  pretends  to  have,  what  is  angrily  called  a 
choice  of  his  own,  which  will  mean  at  least  some 
remnant  of  a  feeling  in  him  that  Nature  and  Fact  do 
still  claim  a  choice  of  their  own,  and  are  like  to  make 
it  good  yet,  —  such  man  is  felt  as  a  kii}d  of  inter- 
loper and  dissocial  person,  who  obstructs  the  harmony 
of  affairs,  and  is  out  of  keeping  with  the  universal- 
suffrage  arrangement  that  has  been  entered  upon. 
Why  not  decide  it  by  dice  ?  Universal  suffrage  for 
your  oracle  is  equivalent  to  flat  despair  of  answer. 
Set  up  such  oracle,  you  proclaim  to  all  men  :  "  Friends, 
there  is  in  Nature  no  answer  to  your  question  ;  and 
you  don't  believe  in  dice.  Try  to  esteem  this  oracle 
a  divine  one,  and  be  thankful  that  you  can  thereby 
keep  the  peace,  and  go  with  an  answer  from  the 
shrine  of  chaotic  Chance." 

Peace  is  good  ;  but  woe  to  the  cowardly  caitiff  of  a 
man,  or  collection  of  cowardly  caitiffs,  styling  them- 


HUDSON'S     STATUE. 

selves  Nation,  tliat  will  have  '  peace  '  on  these  terms! 
They  will  save  their  ignoble  skin  at  the  expense  of 
their  eternal  loyalty  to  the  Highest  God..  ^Peace? 
Better  war  to  tlie  knife,  war  till  we  all  ^ie,.  than  such 
a  'peace.'  Reject  it,  my  friend,  I  advise  thee; 
silently  swear  by  God  above,  that,  on  Earth  below, 
thou  for  thy  part  never  wilt  accept  it.  Be  it  forever 
far  from  us,  my  poor  scattered  friends.  Let  us  fly  to 
the  rocks  rather;  and  silently  appealing  to  .the  Eter- 
nal Heaven,  await  an  hour  which  is  full  surely  com- 
ing, when  we  too  shall  have  grown  to  a  respectable 
'  company  of  poor  men,'  authorized  to  rally,  and  with 
celestial  lightning,  and  with  terrestrial  steel  and  such 
good  weapons  as  there  may  be,  spend  all  our  blood 

upon  it ! 

After  all,  Vviiy  was  not  the  Hudson  Testimonial 
completed  ?  As  Moses  lifted  up  the  Brazen  Serpent 
in  the  wilderness,  why  was  not  Hudson's  Statue  lift- 
ed up  ?  Once  more  I  say,  it  might  have  done  us 
good.  Thither  too,  in  a  sense,  poor  poison-stricken 
mortals  might  have  looked,  and  found  some  healing! 
For  many  reasons,  this  alarming  populace  of  British 
Statues  wanted  to  have  its  chief.  The  liveliest  type 
of  Choice  by  Suffrage  ever  given.  The  consummate 
flower  of  universal  Anarchy  in  the  Commonwealth, 
and  in  the  hea.rts  of  men  :  was  not  this  Statue  such 
a  flower  ;  or  dc  we  look  for  one  more  perfect  and  con- 
summate ? 


Of  social  Hierarchies,  and  Religions  the  parent  of 
these,  why  speak,  in  presence  of  social  Anarchy  such 
SO 


350  hudsoa's  statue. 

as  here  symbolized!  The  Apotheosis  of  Hudson 
beckons  to  still  deeper  gulfs  on  the  religious  side  of 
our  affairs ;  into  which  one  shudders  to  look  down. 
For  the  eye  rests  only  on  the  blackness  of  darkness; 
and,  shrnnk  to  hissing  whispers,  inaudible  except  to 
the  finer  ear,  come  moanings  of  the  everlasting  tem- 
pest, and  tones  of  alti  giiai.  Nor  is  a  certain  vertigo 
quite  absent  from  the  strongest  heads  ;  a  mad  impulse 
to  fake  the  leap,  then,  and  dwell  with  Eternal  Death, 
since  it  seems  to  be  the  rule  at  present  !  One  hur- 
ried glance  or  two,  —  holding  well  by  what  parapets 
there  still  are  ;  —  and  then  let  us  hasten  to  be  srone. 

Worship,  what  Ave  call  human  religion,  has  under- 
gone various  phases  in  the  history  of  mankind.  To 
the  primitive  man  all  Forces  of  Nature  were  divine 
either  for  propitiation  or  for  admiration,  many  things, 
and  in  a  sense  all  things,  demanded  worship  from 
him.  But  especially  the  Noble  Human  Soul  was 
divine  to  him  :  and  announced,  as  it  ever  does,  with 
direct  impressiveness,  the  Inspiration  of  the  Highest; 
demanding  worship  from  the  primitive  man.  Where- 
by, as  has  been  explained  elsewhere,  this  latter  form 
of  worship,  Hero-ioorship  as  we  call  it,  did,  among 
the  ancient  peoples,  attract  and  subdue  to  itself  all 
other  forms  of  human  worship  ;  irradiating  them  all 
with  its  own  perennial  worth,  which  indeed  is  all  the 
worth  they  had,  or  that  any  worship  can  have.  Hu- 
man worship  everywhere,  so  far  as  there  lay  any 
worth  in  it,  was  of  the  nature  of  a  Hero-worship  ; 
this  Universe  wholly,  this  temporary  Flame- image  of 
the  Eternal,  was  one  beautiful  and  terrible  Energy 
of  Heroisms,  presided  over  by  a  Divine  Nobleness  or 


Hudson's  statue.  351 

Infinite  Hero.  Divine  Nobleness  forever  friendly  to 
the  noble,  forever  hostile  to  the  ignoble  :  all  manner  of 
'  n:ioral  rules,'  and  well  '  sanctioned  '  too,  flowed  nat- 
urally out  of  this  primeval  Intuition  into  Nature;  — 
which,  I  believe,  is  still  the  true  fountain  of  moral 
rules,  though  a  much-forgotten  one  at  present  ;  and 
indeed  it  seems  to  be  the  one  unchangeable,  eternally 
f/idnbitable  '  Intuition  into  Nature '  Ave  have  yet 
heard  of  in  these  parts. 

To  the  primitive  man,  whether  he  looked  at  moral 
rule,  or  even  at  physical  fact,  there  was  nothing  not 
divine.  Flame  was  the  God  Loki,  &c.  ;  this  visible 
Universe  was  wholly  the  vesture  of  an  Invisible  Infi- 
nite ;  every  event  that  occurred  in  it  a  symbol  of  the 
immediate  presence  of  God.  Which  it  intrinsically  25, 
and  forever  will  be,  let  poor  stupid  mortals  remember 
or  forget  it  !  The  difference  is,  not  that  God  has 
withdrawn  ;  but  that  men's  minds  have  fallen  hebe- 
tated, stupid,  that  their  hearts  are  dead,  awakening 
only  to  some  life  about  meal -time  and  cookery-time  ; 
and  their  eyes  are  grown  dim,  blinkard,  a  kind  of 
horn-eyes  like  those  of  owls,  available  chiefly  for 
catching  mice. 

Most  excellent  Fitzsmithytrough,  it  is  a  long  time 
since  I  have  stopped  short  in  admiring  your  stupendous 
railway  miracles.  I  was  obliged  to  strike  work,  and 
cease  admiring  in  that  direction.  Yery  stupendous 
mdeed  ;  considerable  improvement  in  old  roadways  and 
wheel-and-axle  carriages  ;  velocity  unexpectedly  great, 
distances  attainable  ditto  ditto  :  all  this  is  undeniable. 
But,  alas,  all  this  is  still  small  deer  for  me,  my  excel- 
lent Fitzsmithytrough  ;  truly  nothing  more  than  an 
mexpected  take  of  mice  for  the  owlish  part  of  you  and 


352  Hudson's  statue. 

me.  Distances,  you  iinfortLinate  Fitz  ?  The  distances 
of  London  to  Aberdeen,  to  Ostend,  to  Vienna,  are  still 
infinitely  inadeqnate  to  me  !  Will  you  teach  me  the 
winged  flight  throngh  Immensity,  np  to  the  Throne 
dark  with  excess  of  bright  ?  You  unfortunate,  you 
grin  as  an  ape  would  at  such  a  question  ;  you  do  not 
know  that  unless  you  ca^i  reach  thither  in  some  efl'ec- 
tual,  most  veritable  sense,  you  are  a  lost  Fitzsmithy-" 
trough,  doomed  to  Hela's  death-realm  and  the  Abyss 
where  mere  brutes  are-buried.  I  do  not  want  cheaper 
cotton,  swifter  railways;  I  want  what  Novalis  calls 
'God,  Freedom,  Immortality:'  will  swift  railways, 
and  sacrifices  to  Hudson,  help  me  towards  that?  — 

As  propitiation  or  as  admiration,  '  worship  '  still  con- 
tinues among  men, will  always  continue  ;  and  the  phase 
it  has  in  any  given  epoch  may  be  taken  as  the  ruling 
phenomenon  which  determines  all  others  in  that  epoch. 
If  Odin,  who  'invented  runes,'  or  literatures,  and 
rhythmic  logical  speech,  and  taught  men  to  despise 
death,  is  worshipped  in  one  epoch  ;  and  if  Hudson, 
who  conquered  railway  directors,  and  taught  men  to 
become  suddenly  rich  by  scrip,  is  worshipped  in 
another,  —  the  characters  of  these  two  epochs  must 
difl^er  a  good  deal  !  Nay,  the  worst  of  some  epochs 
is,  they  have  along  with  their  real  worship  an  imagi- 
nary, and  are  conscious  only  of  the  latter  as  worship. 
They  keep  a  set  of  gods  or  fetishes,  reckoned  respec- 
tahle,  to  which  they  mumble  prayers,  asking  them- 
selves and  others  triumphantly,  "Are  not  these  re- 
spectable gods  ?  "  and  all  the  while  their  real  worship, 
or  heart's  love  and  admiration,  which  alone  is  worship, 
concentrates  itself  on  quite  other  gods  and  fetishes, — 
on  Hudsons  and  scrips,  for  instance.     Thus  is  the 


Hudson's  statue.  353 

miserable  epoch  rendered  twice  and  tenfold  miserable, 
and  in  a  manner  lost  beyond  redemption;  having  su- 
peradded to  its  stupid  Idolatries,  and  brutish  forgettings 
of  the  true  God,  which  are  leading  it  down  daily 
towards  ruin,  an  immense  Hypocrisy,  which  is  the 
quintessence  of  all  idolatries  and  misbeliefs  and  un- 
beliefs, and  taken  refuge  under  that,  as  under  a  thing 
safe  !  Europe  generally  has  lain  there  a  long  time  ; 
England  I  think  for  about  two  hundred  years,  spin- 
ning certain  cottons  notably  the  while,  and  thinking 
it  all  right, — which  it  was  very  far  from  being.  But 
the  time  of  accounts,  slowly  advancing,  has  arrived 
at  last  for  Europe,  and  is  knocking  at  the  door  of 
England  too ;  and  it  will  be  seen  whether  universal 
Make-believe  can  be  the  rule  in  English  or  human 
things;  whether  respectable  Hebrew  and  other  fetishes, 
combined  with  real  worship  of  Yorkshire  and  other 
scrip,  will  answer  the  purpose  here  below  or  not ! 

It  is  certain,  whatever  gods  or  fetishes  a  man  may 
have  about  him,  and  pay  tithes  to,  and  mumble  prayers 
to,  the  real  'religion'  that  is  in  him  is  his  practical 
Hero-worship.  Whom  or  what  do  you  in  your  very 
soul  admire,  and  strive  to  imitate  and  emulate  ;  is  it 
God's  servant  or  the  Devil's  ?  Clearly  this  is  the  whole 
question.  There  is  no  other  religion  in  the  man  which 
can  be  of  the  slightest  consequence  in  comparison. 
Theologies,  doxologies,  orthodoxies,  heterodoxies,  are 
not  of  moment  except  as  subsidiary  towards  a  good 
issue  in  this ;  if  they  help  well  in  it,  they  are  good  ; 
if  not  w.ell  or  at  all,  they  are  nothing  or  bad. 

This  also  is  certain,  Nations  that  do  their  Hero- 
worship  well  are  blessed  and  victorious  ;  Nations  that 


354  Hudson's  statue. 

do  it  ill  are  accursed,  and  in  all  fibres  of  their  business 
grow  daily  more  so,  till  their  miserable  afflictive  and 
offensive  situation  becomes  at  least  unendurable  to 
Heaven  and  to  Earth,  and  the  so-called  Nation,  now 
an  unhappy  Populace  of  Misbelievers  {niisci^eants  was 
the  old  name),  bursts  into  revolutionary  tumult,  and 
either  reforms  or  else  annihilates  itself  How  other- 
wise ?  Know  whom  to  honor  and  emulate  and  follow  ; 
know  whom  to  dishonor  and  avoid,  and  coerce  under 
hatches,  as  a  foul  rebellious  thing  :  this  is  all  the  Law 
and  all  the  Prophets.  All  conceivable  evangels,  bibles, 
homiletics,  liturgies  and  litanies,  and  temporal  and 
spiritual  law-books  for  a  man  or  a  people,  issue  prac- 
tically there.  Be  right  in  that,  essentially  you  are  not 
wrong  in  anything  :  you  read  this  Universe  tolerably 
aright,  and  are  in  the  way  to  interpret  well  what  the 
will  of  its  Maker  is.  Be  wrong  in  that,  had  you  lit- 
m-gies  the  recommendablest  in  Nature,  and  bodies  of 
divinity  as  big  as  an  Indiaman,  it  helps  you  not  a  whit; 
you  are  wrong  in  all  things. 

How  in  any  thing  can  you  be  right?  You  read 
this  Universe  in  the  inmost  meanin":  of  it  wrons: :  orross 
idolatrous  Misbelief  is  what  I  have  to  recognize  in. 
you  ;  and,  superadded,  such  a  faith  in  the  saving  vir- 
tue of  that  deadliest  of  vices.  Hypocrisy,  as  no  People 
ever  had  before  !  Beautiful  recommendable  liturgies  ? 
Your  liturgies,  the  recommendablest  in  Nature,  are  to 
me  alarming  and  distressing  ;  a  turning  of  the  Cal- 
muck  Prayer-mill, — not  my  way  of  praying.  This 
immense  asthmatic  spiritual  Hurdygurdy,  issuing 
practically  in  a  set  of  demigods  like  Hudson,-  what  is 
the  good  of  it ;  why  will  you  keep  grinding  it  under 
poor  men's  windows  ?     Since  Hudson  is  Vishnu,  let 


HUDSON  S    STATUE.  355 

the  Shasters  and  Yedas  be  conformable  to  him.  Why 
chant  divine  psahns  which  belonged  to  a  dilTerent 
Dispensation,  and  are  now  become  idle  and  far  worse  ? 
Not  melodions  to  me,  snch  a  chant,  in  such  a  time  ! 
The  sound  of  it,  if  you  are  not  quite  dead  to  spiritual 
sounds,  is  frightful  and  bodeful.  I  say,  this  litany  of 
yours,  were  the  wretched  populace  and  population 
never  so  unanimous  and  loud  in  it,  is  a  thing  no  God 
can  hear;  your  miserable  'religion,'  as  you  call  it,  is 
an  idolatry  of  the  nature  of  Mumbojumbo,  and  T 
would  advise  you  to  discontinue  it  rather.  You  are 
Infidels,  persons  without  faith  ;  not  believing  what  is 
true  but  what  is  untrue  ;  Miscreants,  as  the  old  fathers 
Avell  called  you, — appointed  too  inevitably,  unless 
you  can  repent  and  alter  soon  (of  which  I  see  no 
symptoms),  to  a  fearful  doom ! 

•'It  was  always  so,"  you  indolently  say?  No, 
Friend  Heavyside,  it  was  not  always  so,  and  even  till 
lately  was  never  so  ;  and  I  would  much  recornmend 
you  to  sweep  that  foolish  notion,  which  you  often 
fling  at  me.  and  always  keep  about  you  as  one  of  your 
main  consolations,  quite  out  of  your  head.  Once  the 
notion  was  my  own  too;  I  know  the  notion  very  well ! 
And  I  will  invite  3^ou  to  ask  yourself  in  all  ways. 
Whether  it  is  not  possibly  a  rather  torpid  and  poison- 
ous, and  likewise  an  altogether  incorrect  and  delusive 
notion?  Capable,  I  assure  you,  of  being  quite  swept 
out  of  a  man's  head  ;  and  greatly  needing  to  be  so,  if 
the  man  would  do  any  '  reform,'  or  other  useful 
work,  in  this  his  day ! 

Till  such  notion  go  about  its  business,  there  cannot 
even  be  the  attempt  towards  reform.  Not  so  much  as 
the  pulling  down,  and  melting  into  warming-pans,  of 


those  poor  Brazen  Representatives  of  Anarchy  can  be 
accomplished  ;  ,but  they  will  stand  there  prophesying 
as  now,  ''  Here  is  the  'New  Aristocracy  '  you  want ; 
down  on  your  knees,  ye  Christian  souls  !  "  —  O  my 
friend,  and  after  Hudson  and  the  other  Idols  have 
quite  gone  to  warming-pans,  have  you  computed 
what  agonistic  centuries  await  us,  before  any  '  New 
Aristocracy  '  worth  calling  by  the  name  of  'real,'  can 
by  likelihood  prove  attainable  ?  From  the  stormfal 
trampling  down  of  Sham  Human  Worth,  and  casting 
it  with  Avrath  and  scorn  into  the  meltingpot,  onward 
to  the  silent  sad  repentant  recognition  of  Real  Human 
Worth,  and  the  capability  of  again  doing  that  some 
pious  reverence,  some  reverence  which  were  7iot  prac- 
tically worse  than  none  :  have  you  measured  what 
an  interval  is  there  ?  Centuries  of  desperate  wrestle 
against  Earth  and  Hell,  on  the  part  of  all  the  brave 
men  that  are  born.  Too  true  this,  though  figuratively 
spoken  !  Perilous  tempestuous  struggle  and  pilgrim- 
age, continual  marching  battle  with  the  mud-ser- 
pents of  this  Earth  and  the  demons  of  the  Pit  —  cen- 
turies of  such  a  marching  fight  (continually  along  the 
edge  of  Red  Republic,  too,  and  the  Abyss)  as  brave 
men  were  not  often  called  to  in  History  before  !  — 
And  the  brave  men  will  not  yet  so  much  as  gird  on 
their  harness  ?  They  sit  indolently  saying,  "  It  is 
already  all  as  it  can  be,  as  it  was  wont  to  be  ;  and 
universal  suflVage  and  tremendous  cheers  will  manage 
it!"  — 

Collins's  old  Peerage-Book,  a  dreadfully  dull  pro- 
duction, fills  one  with  unspeakable  reflections.  Be- 
yond doubt  a  most  dull  production,  one  of  the  darkest 


Hudson's  statue.  357 

in  the  book  kind  ever  realized  by  Chaos  and   man's 
brain  ;  and  it  is  properly  all  we   English   have  for  a 
Biographical  Dictionary;  — nay,  if  yon  think  farther 
of  it,  for  a  National  Bible.    Friend  Heavyside  is  much 
astonished ;  but  I  see   what  I   mean  here,  and  have 
long  seen.     Clear  away  the  dust  from  your  eyes,  and 
you  will  ask  this   question,  What  is  the  Bible  of  a 
Nation,  the  practically  credited  God's-Message  to  a 
Nation  ?     Is    it    not,   beyond  all   else,  the  authentic 
Biography   of  its   Heroic   Souls?     This   is  the  real 
record  of  the  Appearances  of  God  in  the  History  of  a 
Nation  ;  this,  which  all  men  to  the  very  marrow  of 
their  bones  can  believe,  and   which   teaches  all  men 
what  the  nature  of  the' Universe,   when  you  go   to 
work  in  it,  really  is.    What  the  Universe  was  thought 
to  be  in  Judea  and  other  places,  this  too  may  be  very 
interesting   to   know:    but    what   it    is   in    England 
here  where  we  live  and  have  our  work  to  do,  that  is 
the  interesting  point.  —  "  The  Universe  ?  "  M'Crow- 
dy  answers.    "  It  is  a  huge   dull   Cattle-stall  and  St. 
Catherine's  Wliarf;  with  a  few  pleasant  apartments 
upstairs  for    those    that    can    make    money.      Make 
money  ;    and   don't    bother    about    the    Universe ! " 
That   is   M'Crowdy's  notion  ;  reckoned  a  quiet,  in- 
nocent and  rather  wholesome  notion  just  now  ;  yet 
clearly  fitter  for  a  reflective  pig  than  for  a  man  ;  — 
working    continual    damnation,    therefore,    however 
quiet  it  be  ;  and  indeed  I   perceive  it   is  one  of  the 
damnablest    notions    that   ever   came  into  the    head 
of  any  ticoAegged  animal  without    feathers    in    this" 
world.     That    is    M'Crowdy's   Bible;    his   Apology, 
poor  fellow,  for  the  Want  of  a  Bible. 

But  how,  among  so  many  Shakspeares,  and  think- 


358  HUDS0^'''s  statue. 

ers,  and  heroic  singers,  our  National  Bible  should  be 
in  such  a  state  j  and  how  a  poor  dull  Bookseller 
should  have  been  left,  —  not  to  write  in  rhythmic 
coherency,  worthy  of  a  Poet  and  of  all  our  Poeis,  — 
but  to  shovel  together,  or  indicate,  in  huge  rubbish- 
mountains  incondite  as  Chaos,  the  materials  for 
writing  such  a  Book  of  Books  for  England  :  this  is 
abundantly  amazing  to  me,  and  I  wish  much  it  could 
duly  amaze  us  all.  Literature  has  no  nobler  task  ;  — 
in  fact  it  has  that  one  task,  and  except  it  be  idle  rope- 
dancing,  no  other.  '  The  highest  problem  of  Liter- 
ature,' says  Novalis,  very  justly,  'is  the  Writing  of  a 
Bible.' 

Nevertheless,  among  these  dust-mountains,  with 
their  antiquarian  excerpts  and  sepulchral  brasses,  it  is 
astonishing  what  strange  fragments  you  do  turn  up, 
miraculous  talismans  to  a  reader  that  will  think,  — 
windows  through  which  an  old  sunk  world,  as  yet  all 
built  upon  veracity,  and  full  of  rugged  nobleness, 
become  visible  ;  to  the  mute  wonder  of  the  modern 
mind.  It  struck  me  much,  that  of  these  ancient 
jDcerages  a  very  great  majority  had  visibly  had  authen- 
tic '  heroes  '  for  their  founders  ;  noble  men,  of  whose 
worth  no  clearsighted  King  could  be  in  doubt  ;  and 
that,  in  their  descendants  too,  there  did  not  cease  a 
strain  of  heroism  for  some  time,  —  the  peership  gen- 
erally dying  out,  and  disappearing,  not  long  after  that 
ceased.  What  a  world,  tliat  old  sunk  one  ,*  Real 
Governors  go'^erning  in  it;  Shams  not  yet  anywhere 
recognized  as  tolerable  in  it !  A  world  whose  prac- 
tical president  was  not  Chaos  with  ballotboxes,  whose 
outcome  was  not  Anarchy  ^/z^s  a  street-constable.  In 
how  high  and  true  a  sense,  the  Almighty  with  con- 


Hudson's  statue.  353 

tiniial  enforcement  of  his  Laws  still  presided  there  ; 
and  in  all  things  as  yet  there  was  some  degree  of 
blessedness  and  nobleness  there  ! 

One's  heart  is  sore  to  think  how  far,  how  very  far 
all  this  has  vanished  from  ns  ;  how  the  very  tradi- 
tion of  it  has  disappeared  ;  and  it  has  ceased  .to  be 
credible,  to  seem  desirable.     Till  the  like  of  it  retnrn, 

—  yes,  my  constitntional  friend,  such  is  the  sad  fact, 
till  the  like  of  it,  in  new  form,  adapted  to  the  new 
times,  be  again  achieved  by  us  ;  we  are  not  properly 
a  society  at  all  ;  we  are  a  lost  gregarions  horde,  with 
Kings  of  Scrip  on  this  hand,  and  Famishing  Con- 
naughts  and  Distressed  Needlewomen  on  that,  —  pre- 
sided over  by  the  Anarch  Old.  A  lost  horde,  —  who, 
in  bitter  feeling  of  the  intolerable  injustice  that 
presses  upon  all  men,  will  not  long  be  able  to  con- 
tinue even  gregarions;  but  will  have  to  split  into 
street-barricades,  and  internecine  battle  with  one 
another  ;  and  to  fight,  if  wisdom  for  some  new  real 
Peerage  be  not  granted  us,  till  we  all  die.  mutually 
butchered,  and  50  rest,  — so  if  not  otherwise! 

Till  the  time  of  James  the  First,  I  find  that  real 
heroic  merit  more  or  less  was  actually  the  origin  of 
peerages  ;  never,  till  towards  the  end  of  that  bad 
reign  were  peerages  bargained  for,  or  bestowed  on 
men  palpably  of  no  worth  except  their  money  or  con- 
nection. But  the  evil  practice,  once  begun,  spread 
rapidly  ;  and  now  the  Peerage-Book  is  what  we  see  ; 

—  a  thing  miraculous  in  the  other  extreme.  A  kind 
of  Proteus'  flock,  very  curious  to  meet  upon  the  lofty 
mountains,  so  many  of  them  being  natives  of  the 
deep  !  —  Our  menagerie  of  live   Peers  in  Parliament 


SCO  Hudson's  statue. 

is  like  that  of  our  Brazen  Statues  in  the  market- 
place ;  the  selection  seemingly  is  made  much  in  the 
same  way,  and  with  the  same  degree  of  felicity,  and 
successful  accuracy  in  choice.  Our  one  steady  reg- 
ulated supply  is  the  class  definable  as  Supreme  Stump- 
Orators  in  the  Lawyer  department :  the  class  called 
Chancellors  flows  by  something  like  fixed  conduits 
towards  the  Peerage  ;  the  rest,  like  our  Brazen  Statues, 
come  by  popular  rule-of-thumb. 

Stump-Orators,  supreme  or  other,  are  not  beautiful 
to  me  in  these  days  :  but  the  immense  power  of  Law- 
yers among  us  is  sufficiently  intelligible.  I  perceive, 
it  proceeds  from  two  causes.  First,  they  preside  over 
the  management  and  security  of  '  Property,'  which  is 
our  God  at  present  ;  they  are  thus  properly  our  Pon- 
tifls,  the  highest  Priests  we  have.  Then  furthermore, 
tliey  possess  the  talent  most  valued,  that  of  the 
Tongue  ;  and  seem  to  us  the  most  gifted  of  our  in- 
telligences, thereby  provoking  a  spontaneous  loyalty 
and  worship. 

What  think  you  of  a  country  whose  kings  go  by 
genealogy,  and  are  the  descendants  of  successful  Law- 
yers ?  A  poor  weather-worn,  tanned,  curried,  wind- 
dried  human  creature,  called  a  Chancellor,  all  or 
almost  all  gone  to  horsehair  and  officialty  ;  the  whole 
existence  of  him  tanned,  by  long  maceration,  public 
exposure,  tugging  and  manipulation,  to  the  toughness 
of  Yorkshire  leather,  —  meseems  I  have  seen  a  beau- 
tifuller  man  !  Not  a  leather  man  would  I  by  prefer- 
ence appoint  to  beget  my  kings.  Not  lovely  to  me  is 
the  leather  species  of  men  ;  to  whose  tanned  soul 
God's  Universe  has  become  a  jangling  logic-cockpit 
and  little  other.     If  indeed  it   have    not  become  far 


Hudson's  statue.  3o1 

less  and  worse  :  for  the  wretched  tanned  Chancellor, 
I  am  told,  is  usually  acquainted  with  the  art  of  lying 
too,  —  considerable  part  of  his  trade,  as  I  have  been 
informed,  is  the  talent  of  lying  in  a  way  that  cannot 
be  laid  hold  of ;  a  dreadful  trick  to  learn  !  Out  of 
such  a  man  there  cannot  be  expected  much  '  revela- 
tion of  the  Beautiful,'  I  should  say.  —  O  Bull,  were 
I  in  your  place,  I  would  try  either  to  get  other  Peers, 
or  else  to  abolish  the  concern,  —  which  latter,  indeed, 
by  your  acquiescence  in  such  nominations,  and  by 
many  other  symptoms,  I  judge  to  be  unconsciously 
yoiu'  fixed  intention. 

You  have  seen  many  Chancellors  made  Peers  in 
these  late  generations,  Mr.  Bull.  And  now  tell  me, 
Which  was  the  Chancellor  you  did  really  love  or 
honor,  to  any  remarkable  degree  ?  Alas,  you  never 
within  authentic  memory  loved  any  of  them;  you 
couldn't,  no  man  could  !  You  lazily  stared  with  some 
semblance  of  admiration  at  the  big  wig,  huge  purse, 
reputation  for  divine  talent,  and  sublime  proficiency  in 
the  art  of  tongue-fence  :  but  to  love  him,  —  that,  Mr. 
Bull,  was  once  for  all  a  thing  you  could  not  manage. 
Who  of  the  seed  of  Adam  could  ?  From  the  time  of 
Chancellor  Bacon  downwards  (and  beyond  that  your 
Chancellors  are  dark  to  you  as  the  Muftis  of  Constan- 
tinople), I  challenge  you  to  show  me  one  Chancellor 
for  whom,  had  the  wigs,  purses,  reputations,  &c.  been 
peeled  off  him,  you  would  have  given  his  weight  in 
Smithfield  beef-sinking  offal.  You  unhappy  Bull,  gov- 
erned by  Kings  you  have  not  the  smallest  regard  for; 
wandering  in  an  extinct  world  of  wearisome,  oppressive 
and  expensive  shadows,  —  nothing  real  in  it  but  the 
Smithfield  beef,  nothing  preternatural  in  it  but  the 
31 


362 


HUDSON  S    STATUE. 


Chartisms  and  threatened  street-barricades,  and  this 
not  celestial  but  infernal ! 

Sure  enough,  I  find,  O  Ileavyside,  England  once 
was  a  Hierarchy  ;  as  every  Human  Society,  not 
either  dead  or  else  hastening  towards  death,  always 
is:  but  it  has  long  ceased  to  be  so  to  any  tolerable 
degree  of  perfection  ;  and  is  now,  by  its  Hudson  and 
other  Testimonials,  testifying  in  a  silent  way  to  the 
thoughtful,  what  otherwise,  by  its  thousaiidfold  an- 
archic depravities,  miseries,  god-forgettings  and  open 
devil-worships  it  has  long  loudly  taught  them  to  ex- 
pect, that  we  are  now  wending  towards  the  culmina- 
tion in  this  particular.  That  to  the  modern  English 
populations,  Supreme  Hero  and  Supreme  Scoundrel 
are,  perhaps  as  nearly  as  is  possible  to  human  crea- 
tures, indistinguishable.  That  it  is  totally  uncertain,- 
perhaps  even  tiie  odds  against  you,  whether  the  figure 
whom  said  population  mount  to  the  place  of  honor, 
is  not  in  Nature  and  Fact  f/2.9honorable  ;  whether  the 
man  to  whom  they  raise  a  column  does  not  deserve  a 
coalshaft.  And  in  fine,  poor  devils,  that  their  univer- 
sal suffrage,  as  spoken,  as  acted,  meditated,  and  im- 
agined ;  universal  suffrage, — I  do  not  say  ballot- 
boxed  and  cunningly  constitutionalized,  but  boiled, 
distilled,  digested,  quintessenced,  till  you  get  into  the 
very  heart's  heart  ,of  it,- — is,  to  tlie  rational  soul, 
except  for  stock-exchange,  and  the  like  very  humble 
practical  purposes,  worth  express  zcro^  or  nearly  so. 
I  think  probably  as  near  zero  as  the  unassisted  human 
faculties  and  destinies  ever  came,  or  are  like  to  come. 

Hierarchy?     O    Heaven!     \(  Chaos    himself    sat 
umpire,  what   better  could   he  do  ?     Here  are  a  set 


HUDSON'S    STATUE.  363 

of  human  demigods,  as  if  chosen  to  his  hand.  Hie- 
rarchy with  a  vengeance;  —  if  instead  of  God,  a 
vulpine  beggarly  Beelzebub  or  swollen  Mammon 
were  our  Supreme  Hicros  or  Holy,  this  would  be  a 
Hierarchy!  I  say,  if  you  want  Chaos  for  your  mas- 
ter, adopt  this ;  —  if  you  don't,  I  beg  you  make 
haste  to  adopt  some  other  ;  for  this  is  the  broad  way 
to  him !  The  Eternal  Anarch,  with  his  old  waggling 
addle-head  full  of  mere  windy  rumor,  and  his  old 
insatiable  paunch  full  of  mere  hunger  and  indigestion 
tragically  blended,  and  the  hissing  discord  of  all  the 
Four  Elements  persuasively  pleading  to  him  ;  —  he, 
set  to  choose,  would  be  very  apt  to  vote  for  such  » 
set  of  demigods  to  you. 


As  to  the  Statues,  I  know  they  are  but  symptoms 
of  Anarchy  ;  it  is  not  they,  it  is  the  Anarchy,  that 
one  is  anxious  to  see  abated.  Remedy  for  the  Stat- 
ues will  be  possible;  and,  as  a-small  help,  undoubt- 
edly it  too,  in  the  mean  time,  is  desirable.  Every 
symptom  you  drive-in  being  a  curtailment  of  the 
malady,  by  all  means  cure  this  Statue-building  if  you 
can  !     It  will  be  one  folly  and  misery  less. 

Government  is  loath  to  interfere  with  the  pursuits 
of  any  class  of  citizens  ;  and  oftenest  looks  on  in 
silence  while  follies  are  committed.  But  Government 
does  interfere  to  prevent  afflictive  accumulations  on 
the  streets,^  malodorous  or  other  unsanitary  public 
procedures  of  an  extensive  sort ;  regulates  gullydrains, 
cesspools;  prohibits  the  piling-up  of  dungheaps,  and 


364  Hudson's  statue. 

is  especially  strict  on  the  matter  of  indecent  ex- 
posures. Wherever  the  heahh  of  the  citizens  is 
concerned,  much  more  where  their  soul's  heaUh,  and 
as  it  were  their  very  salvation  is  concerned,  all  Gov- 
ernments that  are  not  chimerical  make  haste  to 
interfere. 

Now  if  dungheaps  laid  on  the  streets,  afflictive  to 
the  mere  nostrils,  are  a  suhject  for  interference,  what, 
we  ask,  are  high  columns,  raised  by  prurient  stupidity 
and  public  delusion,  to  blockheads  whose  memory  does 
in  eternal  fact  deserve  the  sinking  of  a' coalshaft  rather.^ 
Give  to  every  one  what  he  deserves,  what  really  is  his  ; 
in  all  scenes  and  situations  thou  shalt  do  that,  —  or  in 
very  truth  woe  will  betide  thee,  as  sure  as  thou  art 
living,  and  as  thy  Maker  lives.  Blockhead,  this  big 
Gambler  swollen  to  the  edge  of  bursting,  he  is  not 
'  great '  and  honorable  ;  he  is  huge  and  abominable  ! 
Thou  shalt  honor  the  right  man,  and  not  honor  the 
wrong,  under  penalties  of  an  alarming  nature.  Honor 
Barabbas  the  Robber,  thou  shalt  sell  old-clothes 
through  the  cities  of  the  world ;  shalt  accumulate 
sordid  moneys,  with  a  curse  on  every  coin  of  them, 
and  be  spit  upon  for  eighteen  hundred  years.  Raise 
statues  to  the  swollen  Gambler  as  if  he  were  great, 
sacrifice  oblations  to  the  King  of  Scrip,  —  unfortunate 
mortals,  you  will  dearly  pay  for  it  yet.  Quiet  as  Na- 
ture's countinghouse  and  scrip-legers  are,  no  faintest 
item  is  ever  blotted  out  from  them,  for  or  against  ; 
and  to  the  last  doit  that  account  too  will  have  to  be 
settled.  Rigorous  as  Destiny;  —  she  is  Destiny. 
Chancery  or  Fetter  Lane  is  soft  to  her,  when  the  day 
of  settlement  comes.  With  her,  in  the  way  of  abate- 
ment,   of    oblivion,  neither  gods   nor    men    prevail. 


Hudson's  statue.  365 

"  Abatement  ?  That  is  not  our  way  of  doing  busi- 
ness ;  the  time  has  run  out,  the  debt  it  appears  is  due." 
AV'ill  the  law  of  gravitation  '  abate  '  for  you  ?  Gravita- 
tion acts  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  feet  per  second,  in  spite 
of  all  prayers.  Were  it  the  crash  of  a  Solar  System,  or 
the  fall  of  a  Yarmouth  Herring,  all  one  to  gravitation. 
'  Is  the  fall  of  a  stone  certain  ;  and  the  fruit  of  an 
unwisdom  doubtful  ?  You  unfortunate  beings  !  Have 
you  forgotten  it  ;  in  this  inmiense  improvement  of 
machinery,  cheapening  of  cotton,  and  general  aston- 
ishing progress  of  the  species  lately?  With  such 
extension  of  journals,  human  cultures,  universities, 
periodic  and  other  literatures,  mechanics'  institutes, 
reform  of  prison-discipline,  abolition  of  capital  punish- 
ment, enfranchisement  by  ballot,  report  of  parliament- 
ary speeches,  and  singing  for  the  million  ?  You  did  not 
know  that  the  Universe  had  laivs  of  right  and  wrong  ; 
you  lancied  the  Universe  was  an  oblivious  greedy 
blockhead,  like  one  of  yourselves;  attentive  to  scrip 
mainly;  and  willing,  where  there  was  no  practical 
scrip,  to  forget  and  forgive  ?  And  so,  amid  such  uni- 
versal blossoming-forth  of  useful  knowledges,  mirac- 
ulous to  the  thinking  editor  everywhere, — the  soul 
of  all  'knowledge,'  not  knowing  which  a  man  is  dark 
and  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  beaver,  has  been 
omitted  by  you  ?  You  have  omitted  it,  and  you 
should  have  included  it  !  The  thinking  editor  never 
missed  it,  so  busy  wondering  and  worshipping  else- 
where ;  but  it  is  not  liere. 

And  alas,  apart  from  editors,  are  there  not  men  ap- 
pointed specially  to  keep  you  in  mind  of  it  ;  solemnly 
set    apart  for   that   object,   thousands  of   years  ago  ! 
Crabbe,  descanting  '  on  the  so-called  Christian  Clerus^'* 
31* 


866  Hudson's  statue. 

has  this  wild  passage  :  '  Legions  of  them,  in  their 
black  or  other  gowns,  I  still  meet  in  every  country  ; 
masquerading,  in  strange  costume  of  body,  and  still 
stranger  of  soul ;  mumming,  primming,  grimacing,  — ■ 
poor  devils,  shamming,  and  endeavoring  not  to  sham : 
that  is  the  sad  fact.  Brave  men  many  of  them,  after 
their  sort ;  and  in  a  position  which  we  may  admit  to 
be  wonderful  and  dreadful !  On  the  outside  of  their 
heads  some  singular  headgear,  tulip-mitre,  felt  coal- 
scuttle, purple  hat  ;  and  in  the  inside,  — I  must  say, 
such  a  Theory  of  God  Almighty's  Universe  as  I,  for 
my  share,  am  right  thankful  to  have  no  concern  with 
at  all !  I  think,  on  the  whole,  as  broken-winged, 
self-strangled,  monstrous  a  mass  of  incoherent  incredi- 
bilities, as  ever  dwelt  in  the  human  brain  before.  O 
God,  giver  of  Light,  hater  of  Darkness,  of  Hypocrisy 
and  Cowardice,  how  long,  how  long! 

'For  two  centuries  now  it  lasts.  The  men  whom 
God  has  made,  Avhole  nations  and  generations  of  them, 
are  steeped  in  Hypocrisy  from  their  birth  upwards; 
taught  that  external  varnish  is  the  chief  duty  of  man, 
—  that  the  vice  which  is  the  deepest  in  Gehenna  is 
the  virtue  highest  in  Heaven.  Out  of  which,  do  you 
ask  what  follows  ?  Look  round  on  a  world  all  bris- 
tling with  insurrectionary  pikes;  Kings  and  Papas 
flying  like  detected  coiners  ;  and  in  their  stead  Icaria, 
Red  Republic,  new  religion  of  the  Anti-Virgin,  liit- 
erature  of  Desperation  curiously  conjoined  with  Phal- 
lus-Worship, too  clearly  heralding  centuries  of  bot- 
tomless Anarchy  :  hitherto  one  in  the  million  looking 
with  mournful  recognition  on  it,  silently  with  sad 
thoughts  too  unutterable  ;  and  to  help  in  healing  it 
not  one  anywhere  hitherto.'  — 


Hudson's  statue.  387 

But  as  to  Statues,  I  really  think  the  Woods-and- 
Forests  ought  to  interfere.  When  a  company  of  per- 
sons have  determined -to  set  up  a  Brazen  Image,  there 
decidedly  arises,  besides  the  question  of  their  own 
five-pound  subscriptions,  which  men  of  spirit  and 
money-capital  without  employment,  and  with  a  pros- 
pect of  seeing  their  names  in  the  Newspapers  at  the 
cheap  price  of  five  pounds,  are  very  prompt  with, — 
anotiier  question,  not  nearly  so  easy  of  solution. 
Namely,  this  quite  preliminary  question  :  Will  it  per- 
manently profit  mankind  to  liave  such  a  Hero  as  this 
of  yours  set  up  for  their  admiration,  for  their  imita- 
tion and  emulation  ;  or  will  it,  so  far  as  they  da  not 
reject  and  with /success  disregard  it  altogether,  un- 
speakably tend  to  damage  and  disprofit  them  ?  In  a 
word,  does  this  Hero's  memory  deserve  a  high  col- 
umn ;  are  you  sure  it  does  not  deserve  a  deep  coal- 
shaft  rather  ?  This  is  an  entirely  fundamental  ques- 
tion !  Till  this  question  be  answered  well  in  the 
affirmative,  there  ought  to  be  a  total  stop  of  progress  ; 
the  misguided  citizens  ought  to  be  admonished,  and 
even  gently  constrained,  to  take  back  their  five-pound 
notes;  to  desist  from  their  rash  deleterious  enterprise, 
and  retire  to  their  affairs,  a  repentant  body  of  mis- 
guided citizens. 

But  farther  still,  and  supposing  the  first  question 
perfectly  disposed  of,  there  comes  a  second,  grave  too, 
though  much  less  peremptory:  Is  this  Statue  of  yours 
a  worthy  commemoration  of  a  sacred  man?  Is  it  so 
excellent  in  point  of  Art  that  we  can,  with  credit,  set 
it  up  in  our  market-places  as  a  respectable  approach 
to  the  Ideal  ?     Or,  alas,  is  it  not  such  an  amorphous 


368  HrDsoN's  statue. 

brazen  sooterkin,  bred  of  prurient  heat  and  darkness, 
as  falls,  if  well  seen  into,  far  below  the  Real  ?  The 
Real,  if  you  will  stand  by  it,  is  respectable.  The 
coarsest  hob-nailed  pair  of  shoes,  if  honestly  made 
according  to  the  laws  of  fact  and  leather,  are  not 
ugly:  they  are  honest,  and  fit  fur  their  object;  the 
highest  eye  may  look  on  them  without  displeasure, 
nay  with  a  kind  of  satisfaction.  This  rude  packing- 
case,  it  is  faithfully  made;  square  to  the  rule,  and 
formed  with  rough  and  ready  strength  against  injury; 
—  fit  for  its  use  ;  not  a  pretensions  hi/pocrisj/,  but  a 
modest,  serviceable  fact ;  whoever  pleases  to  look 
upon  it,  will  find  the  image  of  an  humble  manfulness 
in  it,  and  will  pass  on  with  some  infinitesimal  im- 
pulse to  thank  the  gods. 

But  this  your  '  Ideal,'  my  misguided  fellow-citi- 
zens  ?  Good  Heavens,  are  you  in  the  least  aware  what 
damage,  in  the  very  sources  of  their  existence,  men 
get  from  Cockney  Sooterkins  saluting  them  publicly 
as  models  of  Beauty  ?  I  charitably  feel  you  have  not 
the  smallest  notion  of  it,  or  yen  would  shriek  at  the 
proposal !  Can  you,  my  misguided  friends,  think  it 
humane  to  set  up,  in  its  present  uncomfortable  form, 
this  blotch  of  mismclten  copper  and  zinc,  out  of  which 
good  warming-pans  miglit  be  made?  That  all  men 
should  see  this  ;  innocent  young  creatures,  still  in 
arms,  be  taught  to  think  this  beautiful  ;  —  and  per- 
haps women  in  an  interesting  situation  look  up  to  it 
as  they  pass  ?  I  put  it  to  your  religious  feeling,  to 
your  principles  as  men  and  fathers  of  families  ! 

These  questions  tlie  Woods-and-Forests,  or  some 
Public  Tribunal  constituted  for  the   purpose,   really 


Hudson's  statue.  369 

onglit  to  ask,  in  a  deliberate  speaking  manner,  on  the 
part  of  the  speecliless  suffering  Populations  :  it  is  the 
preliminary  of  all  useful  Statue-building.  Till  both 
these  questions  are  well  a^nswered,  the  VVoods-and- 
Forests  should  refuse  permission  ;  advise  the  mis- 
guided citizens  to  go  home  and  repent.  Really,  il 
this  Statue-humor  go  on,  and  grow  as  it  has  lately 
done,  there  will  be  such  a  Pubhc-Statue  Board  requi- 
site ;  or  the  Woods-and-Forests  will  hav^e  to  interfere, 
with  such  impierfect  law  as  now  is. 

The  Woods-and-Forests,  or  if  not  they,  then  the 
Commissioners  of  Sewers,  Sanitary  Board,  Scavenger 
Board,  Cleansing  Committee,  or  whoever  holds  or  can 
usurp  a  little  of  the  a3dile  authority,  —  cannot  some 
of  them,  in  the  name  of  sense  and  common  decency, 
interfere  at  least  thus  far  ?  Namely,  to  admonish  the 
misguided  citizens,  subscribers  to  the  next  Brazen 
Monster,  or  sad  sculptural  solecism,  the  emblem  of  far 
sadder  moral  ones ;  and  exhort  them,  three  successive 
times,  to  make  warming-pans  of  it  and  repent  ;  — or 
failing  that,  finding  them  obstinate,  to  say  with  au- 
thority:  "Well  then,  persist;  set  up  your  Brazen 
Calf,  ye  misguided  citizens,  and  worship  it,  you,  since 
you  will  and  can.  But  observe,  let  it  be  done  in  se- 
cret :  not  in  public  ;  we  say,  in  secret,  at  your  peril ! 
You  have  pleased  to  create  a  new  Monster  into 
this  world  ;  but  to  make  him  patent  to  public  view, 
we  for  our  part  beg  not  to  please.  Observe,  there- 
fore. Build  a  high  enough  brick  case  or  joss-house 
for  your  Brazen  Calf;  with  undiaphanous  walls,  and 
lighted  by  sky-windows  only  :  put  your  Monster  into 
that,  and  keep  him  there.     Thither  go  at  your  pleas- 


370  Hudson's  statue. 

lire,  there  assemble  yourselves,  and  worship  your  bel- 
lyful, you  absurd  idolaters  ;  ruin  your  own  souls  only, 
and  leave  the  poor  population  alone  ;  the  jioor  speech- 
less unconscious  Population  whom  we  are  bound  to 
protect,  and  will  ! "  To  this  extent,  I  think  the 
Woods-and-Forests  might  reasonably  interfere. 


JESUITISM. 


As  in  the  history  of  human  things,  which  needs  above 
all  to  abridge  itself,  it  happens  usually  that  the  chief 
actors  in  great  events  and  great  epochs  give  their 
name  to  the  series,  and  are  loosely  reputed  the  causers 
and  authors  of  them ;  as  a  German  Reformation  is 
called  of  Luther,  and  a  French  Reign  of  Terror 
passes  for  the  work  of  Robespierre,  and  from  the 
^neid  and  earlier  this  has  been  the  wont :  so  it  may 
be  said  these  current,  and  now  happily  moribund, 
times  of  ours  are  wortliy  to  be  called,  in  loose  lan- 
guage, the  Age  of  Jesuitism,  —  an  epoch  whose  Pali- 
nurus  is  the  wretched  mortal  known  among  men  as 
Ignatius  Loyola.  For  some  two  centuries  the  genius 
of  mankind  has  been  dominated  by  the  gospel  of  Ig- 
natius, perhaps  the  strangest  and  certainly  among  the 
fatallest  ever  preached  hitherto  under  the  sun.  Some 
acquaintance,  out  of  Bartoli  and  others,  I  have  made 
with  that  individual,  and  from  old  years  have  studied 
the  workings  of  him  ;  and  to  me  he  seems  historically 
definable,  he  more  than  another,  as  the  poison-foun- 
tain from  which  these  rivers  of  bitterness  that  now 
submerge  the  world  have  flowed. 

Counting  from  the    '  ever-blessed   Restoration,'  or 
the  advent  of  that  singular  new  Defender  of  the  Faith 


372  JESUITIS3I. 

callc^d  Charles  Second,  it  is  about  two  hundred  years 
since  we  ourselves  commenced  that  bad  course  ;  and 
deeply  detesting  the  name  of  Saint  Ignatius,  did 
nevertheless  gradually  adopt  his  gospel  as  the  real 
revelation  of  Gcd's  will,  and  the  solid  rule  of  living 
in  this  world  ;  rule  long  since  grown  perfectly  ac- 
credited, complete  in  all  its  parts,  and  reigning  su- 
preme among  us  in  all  spiritual  and  social  matters 
whatsoever.  The  singular  gospel,  or  revelation  of 
God's  will  !  That  to  please  the  supreme  Fountain  of 
Truth  your  readiest  method,  now  and  then,  was  to 
persist  in  believing  what  your  whole  soul  found  to  be 
doubtful  or  incredible.  That  poor  human  symbols 
were  higher  than  the  God  Almighty's  facts  they  sym- 
bolized ;  that  formulas,  with  or  without  the  facts 
symbolized  by  them,  were  sacred  and  salutary;  that 
formulas,  well  persisted  in,  could  still  save  us  when 
the  facts  were  all  fled  !  A  new  revelation  to  man- 
kind ;  not  heard  of  in  human  experience,  till  Ignatius 
revealed  it  to  us.  That,  in  substance,  was  the  con- 
tribution of  Ignatius  to  the  wellbeing  of  mankind. 
Under  that  thrice-stygian  gospel  we  have  all  of  us, 
Papist  and  at  length  Protestant  too,  this  long  while 
sat  ;  a  '  doctrine  of  devils,'  I  do  think,  if  there  ever 
was  one  ;  — and  are  now,  ever  since  17S9,  with  end- 
less misery  and  astonishment,  confusedly  awakening 
out  of  the  same,  uncertain  whether  towards  swift 
agony  of  social  death,  or  towards  slow  martyrdom  of 
recovery  into  spiritual  and  social  life. 

Not  that  poor  Loyola  did  all  the  feat  himself, — any 
more  than  Luther,  Robespierre,  and  other  such  did  in 
the  parallel  cases.     By  no  means.     Not  in  his  poor 


JESUITISM.  373 

person  sliall  the  wretched  Loyola  bear  the  guilt  of 
poisoiiiijg  the  world  :  the  world  was,  as  it  were,  in 
quest  of  poison  ;  in  the  sure  course  of  being  poisoned  ; 
and  would  have  got  it  done  by  some  one :  Loy- 
ola is  the  historical  symbol  to  us  of  its  being  done. 
The  most  conspicuous  and  ostentatious  of  the  world's 
poisoners;  who,  solemnly  consecrating  all  the  rest  in 
the  name  of  Holiness  or  Spiritual  Health,  has  got  the 
work  of  poisoning  to  go  on  with  never-imagined  com- 
jjleteness  and  acceleration  in  all  quarters;  and  is 
worthy  to  have  it  called  after  him  a  Jesuitism,  and 
be  blamed  by  men  (how  judged  by  God,  we  know 
not)  for  doing  it.  That  it  is  done,  there  is  the  sad 
fact  for  us  ;  which  infinitely  concerns  every  living 
soul  of  us ;  what  Ignatius  got  or  is  to  get  for  doing 
it,  —  this  shall  not  concern  us  at  all. 

And  so,  before  dismissing  busy  English  readers  to 
their  autumnal  grouse-shooting,  — the  ramadhan,  sa- 
cred fast,  or  month  of  meditative  solitude  and  devout 
prayer,  now  in  use  among  the  English,  —  I  have  one 
sad  thing  to  do  :  lead  them  a  little  to  the  survey  of 
Ignatius  and  our  universal  Jesuitism  ;  and  ask  them, 
in  Heaven's  name,  if  they  will  answer  such  a  ques- 
tion. What  they  think  of  it,  and  of  their  share  in  it  ? 
For  this  is  the  central  and  parent  phenomenon  ;  the 
great  Tartarean  Deep,  this,  whence  all  our  miseries, 
fatuities,  futilities  spring  ;  the  accursed  Hela's  realm, 
tenanted  by  foul  creatures,  ministers  of  Death  Eter- 
nal, out  of  which  poor  mortals,  each  for  himself,  are 
called  to  escape  if  they  can  !  Who  is  there  that  can 
escape  ;  that  can  become  alive  to  the  terrible  neces- 
32 


374  JESUITISM. 

sity  of  escaping?  —  By  way  of  finish  to  this  ofFen 
sive  and  alarming  set  of  Pamphlets,  I  have  still  oyil 
crowning  offence  and  alarm  to  try  if  I  can  give.  The 
message,  namely,  That  under  all  those  Cannibal  Con- 
naughts,  Distressed  Needlewomen,  and  other  woes 
nigh  grown  intolerable,  there  lies  a  still  deeper  Infinite 
of  woe,  and  guilt,  chargeable  on  every  one  of  us ;  and 
that  till  this  abate,  essentially  those  never  will  or  can. 
•  That  our  English  solitaries,  any  noticeable  number 
of  them,  in  their  grouse  ramadhan,  or  elsewhere,  will 
accept  the  message,  and  see  this  thing  for  my  poor 
showing,  is  more  than  I  expect.  Not  willingly  or 
joyfully  do  men  become  conscious  that  they  are  afloat, 
they  and  their  affairs,  upon  the  Pool  of  Erebus,  now 
nameless  in  polite  speech  ;  and  that  all  their  miseries, 
social  and  private,  are  fountains  springing  out  of  that, 
and  like  to  spring  perennially  with  evei'  more  copious- 
ness, till  once  you  get  away  from  that! And  yet 

who  knows  ?  Here  and  there  a  thinking  English 
soul,  the  reflection,  the  devotion,  not  yet  quite  deaf- 
ened out  of  him  by  perpetual  noise  and  babble  ;  such 
a  soul,  —  left  silent  in  the  solitude  of  some  Highland 
corry,  waiting  perhaps  till  the  gillies  drive  his  deer 
up  to^him,  —  may  catch  a  glimpse  of  it,  take  a  thought 
of  it  ;  may  prosecute  his  thought  ;  fling  down,  with 
terror,  his  Joe-Manton  and  percussion-caps,  and  fly  to 
a  better  kind  of  ramadhan^  towards  another  kind  of 
life  !  Sure  enough,  if  one  in  the  thousand  see  at  all, 
in  this  sad  matter,  what  I  see  and  have  long  seen  in 
it,  his  life  eitlier  suddenly  or  gradually  will  alter  in 
several  particulars  ;  and  his  sorrow,  apprehension  and 
amazement  will  probably  grow  upon  hini,  the  longer 


JESUITISM.  375 

he  considers  this  affair  ;  and  his  life,  I  think,  will  al- 
ter ever  farther  ;  —  and  he,  this  one  in  a  thousand, 
will  forgive  me^  and  be  thankful  to  the  Heavens  and 
me,  while  he  continues  in  this  world  or  in  any 
world !  — 

The  Spiritual,  it  is  still  often  said,  but  is  not  now 
sufficiently  considered,  is  the  parent  and  first-cause  of 
the  Practical.  The  Spiritual  everywhere  originates 
the  Practical,  models  it,  makes  it :  so  that  the  saddest 
external  condition  of  affairs,  amoog  men,  is  but  evi- 
dence of  a  still  sadder  internal  one.  For  as  thought 
is  the  life-fountain  and  motive-soul  of  action,  so,  in 
all  regions  of  this  human  world,  whatever  outward 
thing  offers  itself  to  the  eye,  is  merely  the  garment 
or  body  of  a  thing  which  already  existed  invisibly 
within  ;  which,  striving  to  give  itself  expression,  has 
found,  in  the  given  circumstances,  that  it  could  and 
would  express  itself — so.  This  is  everywhere  true; 
and  in  these  times  when  men's  attention  is  directed 
outward  rather,  this  deserves  far  more  attention  than 
it  will  receive. 

Do  you  ask  why  misery  abounds  among  us  ?  I  bid 
you  look  into  the  notion  we  have  formed  for  ourselves 
of  this  Universe,  and  of  our  duties  and  destinies  there. 
If  it  is  a  true  notion,  we  shall  strenuously  reduce  it 
to  practice,  —  for  who  dare  or  can  contradict  his  faith, 
whatever  it  may  be,  in  the  Eternal  Fact  that  is  around 
him?  —  and  thereby  blessings  and  success  will  attend 
us  in  said  Universe,  or  Eternal  Fact  we  live  amidst  : 
of  that  surely  there  is  no  doubt.  All  levelations  and 
intimations,  heavenly  and  earthly,  assure  us  of  that ; 


376  JESUITISM. 

only  a  Philosophy  of  Bedlam  could  throw  a  doubt 
on  that  !  Blessings  and  success,  most  surely,  if  our 
notion  of  this  Universe,  and  our  battle  in  it  be  a  true 
one  ;  not  curses  and  futilities,  except  it  be  not  true. 
For  battle,  in  any  case,  I  think  we  shall  not  want ; 
harsh  wounds,  and  the  heat  of  the  day,  we  shall  have 
to  stand  :  but  it  will  be  a  noble  godlike  and  human 
battle,  not  an  ignoble  devil-like  and  brutal  one  ;  and 
our  wounds,  and  sore  toils  (what  we  in  our  impatience 
call  'miseries'),  will  themselves  be  blessed  to  us. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  were  a  false  notion 
Avhich  we  believed  ;  alas,  if  it  were  even  a  false  no- 
tion which  we  only  pretended  to  believe  ?  What 
battle  can  there  be,  in  that  latter  fatal  case  !  Our 
faith,  or  notion  of  this  Universe,  is  not  false  only,  but 
it  is  the  father  of  falsity  ;  a  thing  that  destroys  itself, 
and  is  equivalent  to  the  death  of  all  notion,  all  belief 
or  motive  to  action,  except  what  the  appetites  and  the 
astucities  may  yield.  We  have  then  the  thrice-bale- 
ful Universe  of  Cant,  prophesied  for  these  Latter 
Days ;  and  no  '  battle,'  but  a  kind  of  bigger  Donny- 
brook  one,  is  possible  for  hapless  mortals  till  that 
alter.  Faith,  Fact,  Performance,  in  all  high  and  grad- 
ually in  all  low  departments,  go  about  their  business; 
Inanity  well  tailored  and  upholstered,  mild-spoken 
Ambiguity,  decorous  Hypocrisy  which  is  astonished 
you  should  think  it  hypocritical,  taking  their  room 
and  drawing  their  wages:  from  zenith  to  nadir,  you 
have  Cant,  Cant,  — a  Universe  of  Incredibilities  which 
are  not  even  credited,  Avhich  each  man  at  best  only 
tiies  to  persuade  himself  that  he  credits.  Do  you 
expect  a  divine  battle,  with  noble  victories,  out  of 


JESUITISM. 


377 


this  ?  I  expect  a  Hudson's  Statue  from  it,  brisk  trade 
in  scrip,  with  Distressed  Needlewomen,  Cannibal  Con- 
naughts,  and  other  the  like  phenomena,  such  as  we 
now  everywhere  see  ! 

Indisputably  enough,  what  notion  each  forms  of 
the  Universe  is  the  all-regulating  fact  with  regard  to 
bim.  The  Universe  makes  no  immediate  objection 
to  be  conceived  in  anyway;  pictures  itself  as  plainly 
in  the  seeing  faculty  of  Newton's  Dog  Diamond,  as 
of  Newton  ;  and  yields  to  each  a  result  accurately  cor- 
responding. To  the  Dog  Diamond  dogs'-meat,  with 
its  adjuncts,  better  or  worse  ;  to  Newton  discovery 
of  the  System  of  the  Stars.  —  Not  the  Universe's 
affair  at  all  ;  but  the  seeing  party's  affair  very  much, 
for  the  results  to  each  correspond,  with  exact  propor- 
tion, to  his  notion  of  it. 

The  saddest  condition  of  human  affairs,  what  an- 
cient Prophets  denounced  as  '  the  Throne  of  Iniquity,' 
where  men  'decree  injustice  by  a  law :  '  all  this,  with 
its  thousandfold  outer  miseries,  is  still  but  a  s^anp- 
torn  ;  all  this  points  to  a  far  sadder  disease  which  lies 
invisible  within!  In  new  dialect,  whatever  modified 
interpretation  we  may  put  upon  it,  the  same  must  be 
said  as  in  old  :  '  God's  judgments  are  abroad  in  the 
world ; '  and  it  would  much  behove  many  of  us  to 
know  well  that  the  essential  fact  lies  there  and  not 
elsewhere.  If  we  '  sin  against  God,'  it  is  most  cer- 
tain '  God's  judgments'  will  overtake  us;  and  wheth- 
er we  recognize  them  as  God's  message  like  men,  or 
merely  rage  and  writhe  under  them  like  dogs,  and  in 
our  blind  agony,  each  imputing  it  to  his  neighbor, 
tear  one  another  in  pieces  under  them,  it  is  certain 
32* 


378  JESUITISM. 

they  will  continue  upon  ns,  till  we  either  cease  '  sin- 
ning,' or  are  all  torn  in  pieces  and  annihilated. 

Wide-spread  suffering,  mutiny  and  delirium  ;  the 
hot  rage  of  sansculottic  Insurrections,  the  cold  rage  of 
resuscitated  Tyrannies;  the  brutal  degradation  of  the 
millions,  the  pampered  frivolity  of  the  units;  that 
awful  unheeded  spectacle,  'the  Throne  of  Iniquity 
decreeing  iujustice  by  a  law,'  as  the  just  eye  can  see 
it  everywhere  doing  :  — certainly  something  must  be 
wrong  in  the  inner  man  of  the  world,  since  its  outer 
man  is  so  terribly  out  of  square!  The  deliverer  of 
the  world,  therefore,  were  not  he  who  headed  sans- 
culottic insurrections  never  so  successful,  but  he  who 
pointed  out  to  the  world  what  niglitmares  were  rest- 
ing over  its  soul.  Ignatius  Loyola,  and  the  innumer- 
able company.  Papist,  Protestant,  Sliamchristian,  Anti- 
christian,  that  have  believed  his  revelation;  universal 
prevalence,  from  pole  to  pole,  of  such  a  'doctrine  of 
devils  ;  '  reverent  or  quasi-reverent  faith  in  the  dead 
human  formulas,  and  somnolent  contempt  of  the  di- 
vine ever-living  facts,  such  as  reigns  now,  consecrated 
and  supreme,  in  all  commonwealths  and  countries, 
and  hearts  of  men  ;  the  Human  Species,  as  it  were, 
imconsciously  or  consciously,  gone  all  to  one  Sodality 
of  Jesuitism  :  who  will  deliver  us  from  the  body  of 
this  death  !  It  is  in  truth  like  death-in-life  ;  a  living 
criminal  (as  in  the  old  Roman  days)  with  a  corpse 
lashed  fast  to  him.  What  wretch  could  have  deserved 
such  a  doom  ? 

As  to  this  Ignatius,  I  am  aware  he  is  admired,  and 
even  transcendently  admired,  or  what  we  call  worship- 


JESUITISM.  379 

ped.  bv  multitudes  of  human  creatures,  who  to  this 
day  expect,  or  endeavor  to  expect,  some  kind  of  sal- 
vation tVom  him;  —  wlioni  it  is  so  painful  to  enrage 
agai):st  me,  if  I  could  avoid  it  !  Undoubtedly  Igna- 
tius, centuries  ago,  gave  satisfaction  to  the  Devil's 
Adv^ocate,  the  Pope  and  other  parties  interested  :  was 
canonized,  named  Saint,  and  raised  duly  into  Heaven 
oflicially  so-called  ;  whereupon,  with  many,  he  passes, 
ever  since,  for  a  kind  of  god,  or  person  who  has 
much  intiuence  with  the  gods.  —  Alas,  the  admira- 
tion, and  transcendent  admiration,  of  mankind,  goes 
a  strange  road  in  these  times!  Hudson  too  had  his 
canonization:  and  by  Vo.v  Populi,  if  not  by  Pope  and 
Devil's  Advocate,  was  raised  to  a  kind  of  brass  Olym- 
pus by  mankind  ;  and  rode  there  for  a  year  or  two  ; 
—  though  he  is  already  gone  to  warming-pans  again. 
A  p'Oor  man,   in  our  day,   has  many  gods  foisted  on 

him  ;  and  big  voices  bid  him,  "  Worship,  or  be !  ■' 

in  a  menacing  and  confusing  manner.  What  shall 
he  do  ?  By  far  the  greater  part  of  said  gods,  current 
in  the  public,  whether  canonized  by  Pope  or  Populus, 
are  mere  dumb  Apises  and  •  beatified  Prize-oxen;  — 
nay  some  of  them,  who  have  articulate  faculty,  are 
devils  instead  of  gods.  A  poor  man  that  would  save 
liis  soul  alive  is  reduced  to  the  sad  necessity  of  sharp- 
ly trying  his  gods  whether  they  are  divine  or  not  ; 
\\'hich  is  a  terrible  pass  for  mankind,  and  lays  an 
awful  problem  upon  each  man.  The  man  must  do 
it,  however.  At  his  own  peril  he  will  have  to  do 
this  problem  too,  which  is  one  of  the  awfnllest  ;  and 
his  neighbors,  all  but  a  most  select  portion  of  them, 
portion  generally  not  clad  in  official  tiaras,  can  be  of 


380  JESUITISM. 

next  to  no  help  to  him  in  it,  nay  rather  will  infinitely 
hinder  him  in  it,  as  matters  go.  If  Ignatius,  worship- 
ped by  millions  as  a  kind  of  god.  is,  in  eternal  fact, 
a  kind  of  devil,  or  enemy  of  whatsoever  is  godlike  in 
man's  existence,  surely  it  is  pressingly  expedient  that 
men  were  made  aware  of  it ;  that  men,  with  what- 
ever earnestness  is  yet  in  them,  laid  it  awfully  to 
heart ! 

Prim  friend  with  the  black  serge  gown,  with  the 
rosary,  scapnlary,  and  I  know  not  what  other  spirit- 
ual block-and-tackle,  —  scowl  not  on  me.  If  in  thy 
poor  heart,  under  its  rosaries,  there  dwell  any  human 
piety,  awestruck  reverence  towards  the  Supreme 
Maker,  de^rout  compassion  towards  this  poor  Earth 
and  her  sons,  —  scowl  not  anathema  on  me,  listen  to 
me  ;  for  I  swear  thou  art  my  brother,  in  spite  of  ro- 
saries and  scapularies  ;  and  I  recognize  thee,  though 
thou  canst  not  me  ;  and  with  love  and  pity  know 
thee  for  a  brother,  though  enchanted  into  the  con- 
dition of  a  spiritual  mummy.  Hapless  creature,  curse 
me  not  ;  listen  to  me,  and  consider;  —  perhaps  even 
thou  wilt  escape  from  mummyhood,  and  become  once 
more  a  living  soul  ! 

Of  Ignatius,  then,  I  must  take  leave  to  say,  there 
can  this  be  recorded,  that  probably  he  has  done  more 
mischief  in  the  Earth  than  any  man  born  since.  A 
scandalous  mortal,  O  brethren  of  mankind  who  live 
by  truth  and  not  by  falsity,  I  must  call  this  man. 
Altogether, — here  where  I  stand,  looking  on  millions 
of  poor  pious  brothers  reduced  to  spiritual  mummy- 
hood,  who  curse  me  because  I  try  to  speak  the  truth 


JESUITISM.  381 

to  them,  and  on  a  whole  world  canting  and  grimacing 
from  birth  to  death,  and  finding  in  their  life  two  seri- 
ous indnbitabilities,  Cookery  and  Scrip,  —  how,  if  he 
is  the  representative  and  chief  fountain  of  all  this,  can 
I  call  him  other  than  the  superlative  of  scandals?  A 
bad  man,  I  think  ;  not  good  by  nature-;  and  by  des- 
tiny swollen  into  a  very  Ahriman  of  badness.  Not 
good  by  nature,  I  perceive.  A  man  born  greedy; 
whose  greatness  in  the  beginning,  and  even  in  the 
end  if  we  will  look  well,  is  indicated  chiefly  by  the 
depth  of  his  appetite  :  not  the  recommendable  kind 
of  man  !  A  man  full  of  prurient  elements  from  the 
first  ;  which  at  the  last,  through  his  long  course, 
have  developed  themselves  over  the  family  of  man- 
kind into  an  expression  altogether  tremendous. 

A  young  Spanish  soldier  and  hidalgo  with  hot  Bis- 
cayan  blood,  distinguished,  as  I  understand,  by  his 
fierce  appetites  chiefly,  by  his  audacities  and  sensu- 
alities, and  loud  unreasonable  decision  That  this  Uni- 
verse, in  spite  of  rumors  to  the  contrary,  was  a 
Cookery-shop  and  Bordel,  wherein  garlic,  Jamaica- 
pepper,  unfortunate-females  and  other  spicery  and 
garnishing  aAvaited  the  bold  human  appetite,  and  the 
rest  of  it  was  mere  rumor  and  moonshine:  with  this 
life-theory  and  practice  had  Ignatius  lived  some  thirty 
years,  a  hot  human  Papin's-digester  and  little  oth- 
er ;  when,  on  the  walls  of  Pampeluna,  the  destined 
cannon-shot  shattered  both  his  legs.  —  leaving:  his 
head,  hitting  only  his  legs,  so  the  Destinies  would 
have  it,  —  and  he  fell  at  once  totally  prostrate,  a 
wrecked  Papin's-digester  ;  lay  many  weeks  horizon- 
tal, and  had  in  that  tedious  posture  to  commence  a 


3S2  JESUITISM. 

new  series  of  reflections.  He  began  to  perceive  now 
that  '  tlie  rest  of  it '  was  not  mere  rumor  and  moon- 
shine ;  that  the  rest  was,  in  fact,  the  whole  secret  of 
the  matter.  That  the  Cookery-shop  and  Bordel  was 
a  magical  delnsion,  a  sleight-of-hand  of  Satan,  to  lead 
Ignatius  down,  by  garlic  and  finer  temporal  spiceries, 
to  eternal  Hell  ;  — and  that  in  short  he,  Ignatius,  had 
lived  hitherto  as  a  degraded  ferocious  Human  Pig, 
one  of  the  most  perfect  scoundrels  ;  and  was,  at  that 
date,  no  other  than  a  blot  on  Creation,  and  a  scandal 
to  mankind. 

With  which  set  of  reflections  who  could  quarrel  ? 
The  reflections  were  true,  were  salutary  ;  nay  there  was 
something  of  sacred  in  them,  —  as  in  the  repentance 
of  man,  in  the  discovery  by  erring  man  that  wrong 
is  not  right,  that  wrong  diff'ers  from  right  as  deep  as 
Hell  from  high  Heaven,  there  ever  is.  Ignatius's  soul 
was  in  convulsions,  in  agonies  of  newbirth  ;  for 
which  I  honor  Ignatius.  Human  sincerity  could  not 
but  have  told  him:  "Yes,  in  several  respects,  thou 
art  a  detestable  Human  Pig,  and  disgrace  to  the 
family  of  man  ;  for  which  it  behoves  thee  to  be  in 
nameless  remorse,  till  thy  life  either  mend  or  end. 
Consider,  there  as  thou  liest  with  thy  two  legs 
smashed,  the  peccant  element  that  is  in  thee  :  dis- 
cover it,  rigorously  tear  it  out;  reflect  what  further 
thou  wilt  do.  A  life  yet  remains  ;  to  be  led,  clearly, 
in  some  new  manner  :  how  wilt  thou  lead  it  ?  Sit 
silent  for  the  rest  of  thy  days  ?  In  some  modest  seclu- 
sion, hide  thyself  from  a  human  kind  which  has  been 
dishonored  by  thee  ?  Thy  sin  being  pruriency  of 
appetite,  give  that  at  least  no  farther  scope  under  any 
old  or  new  form  ?  " 


JESUITISM.  383 

I  admit,  the  question  was  not  easy.  Think,  in  this 
his  wrecked  horizontal  position,  what  could  or  should 
the  poor  individual  called  Inigo,  Ignatius,  or  whatever 
the  first  name  of  him  was,  have  done  ?  Truly  for 
Ignatius  the  question  was  very  complicated.  But, 
had  he  asked  from  Nature  and  the  Eternal  Oracles  a 
remedy  for  wrecked  sensualism,  here  surely  was  one 
thing  that  would  have  suggested  itself:  To  annihilate 
his  pruriency.  To  cower,  silent  and  ashamed,  into 
some  dim  corner  ;  and  resolve  to  make  henceforth  as 
little  noise  as  possible.  That  would  have  been  modest, 
salutary  ;  that  might  have  led  to  many  other  virtues, 
and  gradually  to  all.  That,  I  think,  is  what  the  small 
still  voices  would  have  told  Ignatius,  could  he  have 
heard  them  amid  the  loud  buUyings  and  liturgyings  ; 
but  he  couldn't,  perhaps  he  never  tried  ;  —  and  tliatj 
accordingly,  was  not  what  Ignatius  resolved  upon. 

In  fact,  Christian  doctrine,  backed  by  all  the  human 
wisdom  I  could  ever  hear  of,  incline  me  to  think  that 
Ignatius,  had  he  been  a  good  and  brave  man,  should 
have  consented,  at  this  point,  to  be  damned,  —  as 
was  clear  to  him  that  he  deserved  to  be.  Here 
would  have  been  a  healing  solace  to  his  conscience  ; 
one  transcendent  act  of  virtue  which  it  still  lay  with 
him,  the  worst  of  sinners,  to  do.  ''  To  die  forever, 
as  I  have  deserved  ;  let  Eternal  Justice  triumph  so, 
by  means  of  me  and  my  foul  scandals,  since  otherwise 
it  may  not!"  Selbstlodtinig,  Annihilation  of  Self, 
justly  reckoned  the  beginning  of  all  virtue:  here  is 
the  highest  form  of  it,  still  possible  to  the  lowest  man. 
The  voice  of  Nature  this,  to  a  repentant  outcast  sin- 
ner turning  again  towards   the  realms  of  manhood  ; 


384  JESUITISM. 

—  and  I  understand  it  is  the  precept  of  all  right 
Cliristianity  too.  But  no,  Ignatius  could  not.  in  his 
lowest  abasement,  consent  to  have  justice  done  on 
him,  not  on  Jiim^  ah  no;  —  and  there  lay  his  crime 
and  his  misfortune,  which  has  brought  such  penalty 
on  him  and  us. 

The  truth  is,  it  was  not  of  Eternal  Nature  and  her 
Oracles  that  Ignatius  inquired,  poor  man  ;  it  was  of 
Temporary  Art  and  hers,  and  these  sang  not  of  self- 
annihilation,  or  Ignatius  would  not  hear  that  part 
of  their  song.  Not  so  did  Ignatius  read  the  omens. 
''  My  pruriency  being  terribly  forbidden  on  one  side, 
let  it,"  thought  Ignatius,  deeply  unconscious  of  such 
a  thought,  "  have  terrible  course  on  another.  Garlic- 
cookery  and  such-like  excitations  are  accursed  to  me 
forever ;  but  cannot  I  achieve  something  that  shall 
still  assert  my  Ego  I  in  a  highly  gratifying  man- 
ner ?  "  Alas,  human  sincerity,  hard  as  his  scourging 
had  been,  was  not  quite  attainable  by  him.  In  his 
frantic  just  agonies,  he  flung  himself  before  the  shrine 
of  Virgin  Marys,  Saints  of  the  Romish  Calendar, 
three-hatted  Holy  Fathers,  and  uncertain  Thauma- 
turgic  Entities  ;  praying  that  he  might  be  healed  by 
miracle,  not  by  course  of  nature  ;  and  that,  for  one 
most  fqital  item,  his  pruriency  of  appetite  might, 
under  new  inverse  forms,  —  continue  with  him. 
Which  j)rayer,  we  may  say,  was  granted. 

In  the  depths  of  his  despair,  all  Nature  glooming 
veritable  reprobation  on  him,  and  Eternal  Justice 
whispering,  ^'■Accept  what  thou  hast  merited,"  there 
rose  this  altogether  turbid  semi-artificial  glare  of  liopc 
upon  Ignatius,  "  The  Virgin  will  save  me,  the  Virgni 


JESUITISM. 


385 


has  saved  me:"  —  Well  and  good,  I  say;  then  be 
qiiietj  and  let  us  see  some  temperance  and  modesty  in 
j^ou.  Far  otherwise  did  Ignatius  resolve  :  temperance 
and  true  modesty  were  not  among  the  gifts  of  this 
precious  individual  the  Virgin  had  been  at  the  pains 
to  save.  Many  plans  Ignatius  tried  to  make  his  Ego  I 
still  available  on  Earth,  and  still  keep  Heaven  open  for 
him.  His  pilgrimings  and  battlings^  his  silent  suffer- 
ings and  wrestlings  for  that  object,  are  enormous,  and 
reach  the  highest  pitch  of  the  prurient-heroic.  At 
length,  after  various  failures  and  unsatisfactory  half- 
successes,  it  struck  him  :  "  Has  there  not  lately  been 
a  sort  of  revolt  against  the  Virgin,  and  the  Holy 
Father  who  takes  care  of  her  ?  Certain  infernal  Here- 
siarchs  in  Germany  and  elsewhere,  I  am  told,  have 
risen  up  against  the  Holy  Father,  arguing  with  terri- 
ble plausibility  that  he  is  an  Unholy  Phantasm  : 
he;  —  and  if  so,  what  am  I  and  my  outlooks!  A 
new  light,  presumably  of  Hell,  has  risen  to  that  effect; 
which  new  light  —  why  cannot  I  vow  here,  and  conse- 
crate myself,  to  battle  against,  and  with  my  whole 
^strength  endeavor  to  extinguish  ?  "  That  was  the 
task  Ignatius  fixed  upon  as  his;  and  at  that  he  has 
been  busy,  he  and  an  immense  and  ever-increasing 
sodality  of  mortals,  these  three  hundred  years;  and, 
through  various  fortune,  they  have  brought  it  thus 
far.  Truly  to  one  of  the  most  singular  predicaments, 
the  affairs  of  mankind  ever  stood  in  before. 

If  the  new  light  is  of  Hell,  O  Ignatius,  right  :  but 

if  of  Heaven,  there  is  not,  that  I  know  of,  any  equally 

damnable  sin  as  thine!     No  ;  thy  late  Pighood  itself 

is  trivial   in  comparison.     Frantic  mortal,  wilt  thou, 

33 


386 


JESUITISM. 


at  the  bidding  of  any  Papa,  Avar  against  Almighty 
God  ?  Is  there  no  'inspiration,'  then,  but  an  ancient 
Jewish,  Greekish,  Romish  one,  with  big  revenues, 
loud  liturgies,  and  red  stockings  ?  The  Pope  is  old  ; 
but  Eternity,  thou  shalt  observe,  is  older.  High- 
treason  against  all  the  Universe  is  dangerous  to  do. 
Q^uench  not  among  us,  I  advise  thee,  the  monitions 
of  that  thrice-sacred  gospel,  holier  than  all  gospels, 
which  dwells  in  each  man  direct  from  the  Maker  of 
him  !  Frightfully  will  it  be  avenged  on  thee,  and  on 
all  that  follow  thee  ;  to  the  sixth  generation  and 
farther,  all  men  shall  lie  under  this  gigantic  Upas-tres 
thou  hast  been  planting  ;  terribly  Avill  the  gods  avenge 
it  on  thee,  and  on  all  thy  Father  Adam's  house ! 


Ignatius's  black  militia,  armed  with  this  precious 
message  of  salvation,  have  now  been  campaigning 
over  all  the  world  for  about  three  hundred  years  ;  and 
openly  or  secretly  have  done  a  mighty  work  over  all 
the  world.  Who  can  count  what  a  work  !  Where 
you  meet  a  man  believing  in  the  salutary  nature  of 
falselioods,  or  the  divine  authority  of  things  doubtful, 
and  fancying  that  to  serve  the  Good  Cause  he  must 
call  the  Devil  to  his  aid,  there  is  a  follower  of  Unsaint 
Ignatius  :  not  till  the  last  of  these  men  has  vanished 
from  the  Earth  will  our  account  with  Ignatius  be 
quite  settled,  and  his  black  militia  have  got  their  mit- 
timus to  Chaos  again.  They  have  given  a  new  sub- 
stantive to  modern  languages.     The  word  '  Jesuitism  ' 


JESUITISM. 


387 


now,  in  all  countries,  expresses  an  idea  for  which 
there  was  in  Nature  no  prototype  hefore.  Not  till 
these  late  centuries  had  the  human  soul  generated 
that  abomination,  or  needed  to  name  it.  Truly  they 
have  achieved  great  things  in  the  world  ;  and  a  gen- 
eral result  which  we  may  call  stupendous.  Not  vic- 
tory for  Ignatius  and  the  black  militia,  — no,  till  the 
Universe  itself  become  a  cunningly  devised  Fable, 
and  God  the  Maker  abdicate  in  favor  of  Beelzebub,  I 
do  not  see  how  '  victory '  can  fall  on  that  side  !  But 
they  have  done  such  deadly  execution  on  the  general 
soul  of  man;  and  have  wrought  such  havoc  on  the 
terrestrial  and  supernal  interests  of  this  world,  as  in- 
sure to  Jesuitism  a  long  memory  in  human  annals. 

How  many  three-hatted  Papas,  and  scandalous  Con- 
secrated Phantasms,  cleric  and  laic,  convicted  or  not 
yet  suspected  to  be  Phantasms  and  servants  of  the 
Devil  and  not  of  God,  does  it  still  retain  in  existence 
in  all  corners  of  this  afflicted  world!  Germany  had 
its  War  of  Thirty  Years,  among  other  wars,  on  this 
subject  ;  and  had  there  not  been  elsewhere  a  nobler 
loyalty  to  God's  Cause  than  was  to  be  found  in  Ger- 
many at  that  date,  Ignatius  with  his  rosaries  and 
gibbet-ropes,  with  his  honeymouthed  Fathers  Lam- 
merlein  in  black  serge,  and  heavyfisted  Fathers  Wal- 
lenstein  in  chain  armor,  must  have  carried  it ;  and  that 
alarming  Lutheran  new-light  would  have  been  got  ex- 
tinguished again.  The  Continent  once  well  quenched 
out,  it  was  calculated  England  might  soon  be  made 
to  follow,  and  then  the  whole  world  were  blessed 
with  orthodoxy.  So  it  had  been  computed.  But 
Gustavus,  a  man  prepared  to  die  if  needful,  Gustavus 


SS8  JESUITISM. 

with  his  Swedes  appeared  upon  the  scene  ;  nay  short- 
ly Oliver  Cromwell  with  his  Puritans  appeared  upon 
it ;  and  the  computation  quite  broke  down.  Beyond 
seas  and  within  seas,  the  VVallensteins  and  Lammer- 
leins,  the  Hyacinths  and  Andreas  Habernfelds,  the 
Lauds  and  Charleses,  —  in  fine,  Ignatius  and  all  that 
held  of  him, — had  to  cower  into  their  holes  again, 
and  try  it  by  new  methods.  Many  were  their  meth- 
ods, their  fortune  various;  and  ever  and  anon,  to  the 
liope  or  the  terror  of  this  and  the  other  man  of  weak 
judgment,  it  has  seemed  that  victory  was  just  about 
to  crown  Ignatius.  True,  too  true,  the  execution 
done  upon  the  soul  of  mankind  has  been  enormous 
and  tremendous;  but  victory  to  Ignatius  there  has 
been  none,  —  and  will  and  can  be  none. 

Nay  at  last,  ever  since  1789  and  '93,  the  figure  of 
the  quarrel  has  much  altered  ;  and  the  hope  for  Igna- 
tius (except  to  here  and  there  a  man  of  weak  judg- 
ment) has  become  a  flat  impossibility.  For  Luther 
and  Protestantism  Proper  having,  so  to  speak,  with- 
drawn from  the  battle-field,  as  entities  Avhose  work 
was  done,  there  then  appeared  on  it  Jean  Jacques  and 
French  Sansculottisni  ;  to  Avhich  all  creatures  have 
gradually  joined  themselves.  Whereby  now  we  have 
Protestantism  /^proper,  —  a  Protestantism  universal 
and  illimitable  on  the  part  of  all  men  ;  the  whole 
world  risen  into  anarchic  mutiny,  with  pike^and 
paving-stone  ;  swearing  by  Heaven  above  and  also  by 
Hell  beneath,  by  the  Eternal  Yea  and  the  Eternal  No, 
that  Ignatius  and  Imposture  shall  not  rule  them  any 
more,  neither  in  soul  nor  in  body  nor  in  breeches- 
pocket   any   more ;  but   that   they   will    go   unruled 


JESUITISM. 


389 


rather,  —  as  they  hope  it  Avill  be  possible  for  them  to 
do.  This  is  Ignatius's  '  destruction  '  of  Protestant- 
ism :  he  has  destroyed  it  into  Sanscnlcttism,  such  a 
form  of  all-embracing  Protestantism  as  was  never 
dreamt  of  by  the  human  soul  before.  So  tliat  now, 
at  last,  there  is  hope  of  final  death  and  rest  to  Igna- 
tius and  his  labors.  Ignatius,  I  perceive,  is  now  sure 
to  die  and  be  abolished  before  long;  nay  is  already 
dead,  and  will  not  even  galvanize  much  farther  ;  but,  ..f 
in  fine,  is  hourly  sinking  towards  the  Abyss, — drag- 
ging much  along  with  him  thither.  Whole  worlds 
along  with  him  :  such  continents  of  things,  once 
living  and  beautiful,  now  dead  and  horrible  ;  things 
once  sacred,  now  not  even  commonly  profane :  — 
fearful  and  wonderful,  to  every  thinking  heart  and 
seeing  eye,  in  these  days  !  That  is  the  answer, 
slowly  enunciated,  but  irrevocable  and  indubitable, 
which  Ignatius  gets  in  Heaven's  High  Court,  when 
he  appeals  there,  asking,  "Am  I  a  Sanctus  or  not,  as 
the  Papa  and  his  Devil's  Advocate  told  me  I  was  ? " 

The  '  vivaciousness'  of  Jesuitism  is  much  spoken 
of,  as  a  thing  creditable.  And  truly  it  is  remarkable, 
though  I  thiiik  in- the  way  of  wonder  even  more  than 
of  admiration,  what  a  quantity  of  killing  it  does 
require.  To  say  nothing  of  the  Cromwells  and 
Gustavuses,  and  what  they  did,  they  and  theirs, — 
it  is  near  a  century  now  since  Pombal  and  Aranda, 
secular  and  not  divine  men,  yet  useful  antiseptic  prod- 
ucts of  their  generation,  felt  called,  if  not  con- 
sciously by  Heaven,  then  by  Earth  which  is  uncon- 
sciously a  bit  of  Heaven,  to  cut  down  tliis  scandal 
33* 


390  JESUITISM. 

from  the  world,  and  make  the  Earth  rid  of  Jesuitism 
for  one  thing.  What  a  wide-sweeping  sheer  they 
gave  it,  as  with  the  sudden  scythe  of  universal  death, 
is  well  known  ;  and  how,  mown  down  from  side  to 
side  of  the  world  in  one  day,  it  had  to  lie  sorrowfully 
slain  and  withering  under  the  sun.  After  all  which, 
nay  after  1793  itself,  does  not  Jesuitism  still  pretend 
to  be  alive ;  and  in  this  year  1850,  still  (by  dint  of 
steady  galvanism)  shows  some  quivering  in  its  fingers 
and  toes  ?  Vivacious,  sure  enough  ;  and  I  suppose 
tliere  must  be  reasons  for  it,  which  it  is  well  to  note 
withal.  But  what  if  such  vivaciousness  were,  in 
good  part,  like  that  of  evil  weeds ;  if  the  '  strength  ' 
of  Jesuitism  were  like  that  of  typhus-fever,  not  a 
recommendable  kind  of  strength  ! 

I  hear  much  also  of  '  obedience,'  how  that  and  the 
kindred  virtues  are  prescribed  and  exemplified  by  Jes- 
uitism ;  the  truth  of  which,  and  the  merit  of  which, 
far  be  it  from  me  to  deny.  Obedience,  a  virtue  uni- 
versally forgotten  in  these  days,  will  have  to  become 
universally  known  again.  Obedience  is  good,  and  in- 
dispensable :  but  if  it  be  obedience  to  what  is  wrong 
and  false,  —  good  Heavens,  there  is  no  name  for  such 
a  depth  of  human  cowardice  and  calamity  ;  spurned 
everlastingly  by  the  gods.  Loyalty  ?  Will  you  be 
loyal  to  Beelzebub  ?  Will  you  '  make  a  covenant  with 
Death  and  Hell  ?  '  1  will  not  be  loyal  to  Beelzebub  ; 
I  will  become  a  nomadic  Chactaw  rather,  a  barricad- 
ing Sansculotte,  a  Conciliation-Hall  repealer ;  any- 
thing and  everything  is  venial  to  that. 

The  virtues  of  Jesuitism,  seasoned  with  that  fatal 
condiment,  are  other  than  quite  virtuous  !     To  cher- 


JESUITISM.  331 

ish  pious  thoughts,  and  assiduously  keep  your  eye 
directed  to  a  Heaven  that  is  not  real :  will  that  yield 
divine  life  to  you,  or  hideous  galvanic  lite-in-deaih  ? 
To  cherish  many  quasi-human  virtues,  really  many 
possibilities  of  virtue ;  and  wed  them  all  to  the  prin- 
ciple that  God  can  be  served  b}^  believing  what  is  not 
true:  to  put  out  the  sacred  lamp  of  Intellect  within 
you  ;  to  decide  on  maiming  yourself  of  that  higher 
godlike  gift,  whicl\God  himself  has  given  you  with  a 
-silent  but  awful  charge  in  regard  to  it ;  to  be  bullied  and 
bowowed  out  of  your  loyalty  to  the  God  of  Light  by 
big  Phantasms  and  three-hatted  Chimeras:  can  I  call 
that  by  the  name  of  nobleness  or  human  courage  ?  — 
'•  Could  not  help  it,"  say  you  ?  If  'a  man  cannot  help 
it,'  a  man  must  allow  me  to  say  he  has  unfortunately 
given  the  most  conspicuous  proof  of  caitiff  hood  that 
lay  within  his  human  possibility,  and  he  must  cease 
to  brag  to  me  about  his  '  virtues,'  in  that  sad  case  ' 

But,  in  fact,  the  character  of  the  poor  creature 
named  Ignatius,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad  and  worst, 
concerns  us  little  ;  not  even  that  of  the  specific  Jesuit 
Body  concerns  us  much.  The  Jesuits  proper  have 
long  since  got  their  final  mittimus  from  England. 
Nor,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  —  with  an  ubiquitous 
alarming  Toby  Mathews,  Andreas  Habernfeld  and 
Company ;  with  there  a  Father  Hyacinth,  and  here  a 
William  Laud  and  Charles  First,  —  was  this  by  any 
means  so  light  a  business  as  we  now  fancy.  But  it  has 
been  got  accomplished.  Long  now  have  the  English 
People  understood  that  Jesuits  proper,  in  so  far  as  they 
are  not  Nothing  (which  is  the  commonest  case),  are 


392  JESUITISM. 

servants  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness  :  by  Puritan  Crom- 
welliads  on  the  great  scale,  and  on  the  small  by  dili- 
gent hunting,  confinement  in  the  Clink  Prison,  and 
judicial  tribulation,  —  let  us  say,  by  earnest  pious 
thought  and  fight,  and  the  labors  of  the  valiant  born 
to  us,  —  this  country  has  been  tolerably  cleared  of 
Jesuits  proper ;  nor  is  there  danger  of  their  ever  com- 
ing to  a  head  here  again.  But,  alas,  the  expulsion  of 
the  Jesuit  Body  avails  us  little,  when  the  Jesuit  Soul 
has  so  nestled  itself  in  the  life  of  mankind  every- 
where. What  we  have  to  complain  of  is,  that  all 
men  are  become  Jesuits  !  That  no  man  speaks  the 
truth  to  you  or  to  himself,  but  that  every  man  lies, 
—  with  blasphemous  audacity,  and  does  not  know 
that  he  is  lying,  — before  God  and  man,  in  regard  to 
almost  all  manner  of  things.  This  is  the  fell'  heritage 
bequeathed  us  by  Ignatius ;  to  this  sad  stage  has  our 
battle  with  him  come. 

Consider  it,  good  reader;  —  and  yet  alas,  if  thou 
be  not  one  of  a  thousand,  what  is  the  use  of  bidding 
thee  consider  it  !  The  deadliest  essence  of  the  curse 
we  now  labor  under  is  that  the  light  of  our  inner 
eyesi-ght  is  gone  out  ;  that  such  things  are  not  dis- 
cernible by  considering.  '  Cant  and  even  sincere 
Cant : '  O  Heaven,  when  a  man  doing  his  sincerest  is 
still  but  canting  !  For  this  is  the  sad  condition  of 
the  insincere  man  :  he  is  doomed  all  his  days  to  deal 
with  insincerities  ;  to  live,  move,  and  have  his  being, 
in  traditions  and  conventionalities.  If  the  traditions 
have  grown  old,  the  conventionalities  will  be  mostly 
false  ;  true  in  no  sense  can  they  be  for  him  :  never 
shall   he   behold  the   truth  of  any  matter;  formulas, 


JESUITISM.  393 

theologic,  economic  and  other,  certain  snperficial 
readings  of  truth,  required  in  the  market-place,  these 
he  will  take  with  him,  these  he  will  apply  dexter- 
ously, and  with  these  he  will  have  to  satisfy  himself. 
Sincerity  shall  not  exist  for  him  ;  he  shall  think  that 
he  has  found  it,  while  it  is  yet  far  away.  Tlie  deep, 
awful  and  indeed  divine  quality  of  truth  that  lies  in 
every  object,  and  in  virtue  of  which  the  object  exists, 
—  from  his  poor  eyes  this  is  forever  hidden.  Not 
with  austere  divine  realities  which  belong  to  the 
Universe  and  to  Eternity,  but  with  paltry  ambiguous 
phantasms,  comfortable  and  uncomfortable,  which 
belong  to  his  own  parish  and  to  the  current  week  or 
generation,  shall  he  pass  his  days. 

There  had  been  liars  in  the  world ;  alas,  never 
since  the  Old  Serpent  tempted  Eve,  had  the  world 
been  free  of  liars,  neither  will  it  be  :  but  there  was 
in  this  of  Jesuit  Ignatius  an  apotheosis  of  falsity,  a 
kind  of  subtle  quintessence  and  deadly  virus  of  ly- 
ii]g,  the  like  of  which  had  never  been  seen  before. 
Measure  it,  if  you  can  :  prussic-acid  and  chloroform 
are  poor  to  it !  Men  had  served  the  Devil,  and  men 
had  very  imperfectly  served  God;  but  to  think  that 
God  cou'.d  be  served  more  perfectly  by  taking  the 
Devil  into  partnership,  —  this  was  a  novelty  of  St. 
Ignatius.  And  this  is  now  no  novelty ;  to  such 
extent  has  the  Jesuit  chloroform  stupefied  us  all. 
This  is  the  universal  faith  and  practice,  for  several 
generations  past,  of  the  class  called  good  men  in  this 
woild.  They  are  in  general  mutineers,  sansculottes, 
angry  disorderly  persons,  and  a  plass  rather  worthy 
to  be  called  bad,  who  hitherto  assert  the  contrary  of 


094  JESUITISM. 

this.  ''  Be  careful  how  you  believe  truth,"  cries  the 
good  mau  every  where  :  ''  Composure  aud  a  whole 
skill  are  very  valuable.  Truth,  —  who  knows?  — 
many  things  are  not  true  ;  most  things  are  uncertain- 
ties, very  prosperous  things  are  even  open  falsities 
that  have  been  agreed  upon.  There  is  little  certain 
truth  going.  If  it  isn't  orthodox  truth,  it  will  play 
the  very  devil  with  you  !  " 

Did  the  Human  Species  ever  lie  in  such  a  soak  of 
horrors,  —  sunk  like  steeping  flax  under  the  wide- 
spread fetid  Hell-waters,  —  in  all  spiritual  respects 
dead,  dead;  voiceless  towards  Heaven  for  centuries 
back  ;  merely  sending  up,  in  the  form  of  mute  prayer, 
such  an  odor  as  the  angels  never  smelt  before  !  It 
has  to  lie  there,  till  the  worthless  part  has  been  rotted 
out  ;  till  much  has  been  rotted  out,  I  do  perceive  ;  — 
and  perhaps  the  time  has  come  when  the  precious 
lint-fibre  itself  is  in  danger ;  and  men,  if  they  are  not 
delivered,  will  cease  to  be  men,  or  to  be  at  all  !  O 
Heavens,  with  divine  Hudson  on  this  hand,  and 
divine  Ignatius  on  that,  and  the  Gorham  Controversy 
going  on,  and  the  Irish  Tenant  Agitation  (which 
will  soon  become  a  Scotch  and  an  English  ditto)  just 
about  beginning,  is  not  the  hour  now  nearly  come  ? 
Words  fail  us  when  we  would  speak  of  what  Igna- 
tius has  done  for  men.  Probably  the  most  virulent 
form  of  sin  which  the  Old  Serpent  has  yet  rejoiced 
in  on  our  poor  Earth.  For  me  it  is  the  deadliest 
high  treason  against  God  our  Maker  which  the  soul 
of  man  could  commit. 

And  this  then  is  the  horrible  conclusion  we  have 
arrived  at,  m  England  as  in  all  countries  j  and  with 


JESUITISM.  395 

less  protest  against  it  hitherto,  and  not  with  more,  in 
England  than  in  other  countries  ?  That  the  great 
body  of  orderly  considerate  men  ;  men  affecting  the 
name  of  good  and  pious,  and  who,  in  fact,  excluding 
certain  silent  exceptionary  individuals  one  to  the 
million,  such  as  the  Almighty  Beneficence  never 
quite  withholds,  are  accounted  our  best  men,  —  have 
unconsciously  abnegated  the  sacred  privilege  and  duty 
of  acting  or  speaking  the  truth  ;  and  fancy  that  it  is 
not  truth  that  is  to  be  a-cted,  but  that  an  amalgam  of 
truth  and  falsity  is  the  safe  thing.  In  parliament  and 
pulpit,  in  book  and  speech,  in  whatever  spiritual  thing 
men  have  to  commune  of,  or  to  do  together,  this  is  the 
rule  they  have  lapsed  into,  this  is  the  pass  they  have 
arrived  at.  We  have  to  report  that  Human  Speech 
is  not  true  !  That  it  is  false  to  a  degree  never  wit- 
nessed in  this  world  till  lately.  Such  a  subtle  virus 
of  falsity  in  the  very  essence  of  it,  as  far  excels  all 
open  lying,  or  prior  kinds  of  falsity  ;  false  with  con- 
sciousness of  being  sincere  !  The  heart  of  the  world 
is  corrupted  to  the  core  :  a  detestable  devil's-poison 
circulates  in  the  life-blood  of  mankind  ;  taints  with 
abominable  deadly  malady  all  that  mankind*  do.  Such 
a  curse  never  fell  on  men  before. 

For  the  falsity  of  speech  rests  on  a  far  deeper  falsi- 
ty. False  speech,  as  is  inevitable  when  men  long 
practise  it,  falsifies  all  things  ;  the  very  thoughts,  or 
fountains  of  speech  and  action,  become  false.  Ere 
long,  by  the  appointed  curse  of  Heaven,  a  man's 
intellect  ceases  to  be  capable  of  distinguishing  truth, 
when  he  permits  himself  to  deal  in  speaking  or  acting 
what  is  false.     Watch  well   the  tongue,  for  out  of  it 


396 


JESUITISM. 


are  the  issues  of  life  !  O,  the  foul  leprosy  that  heaps 
itself  in  monstrous  accumulation  over  Human  Ijfe, 
and  obliterates  all  the  diviue  features  of  it  into  oue 
hideous  mountain  of  purulent  disease,  wlieu  Human 
Life  parts  compauy  with  trutli.;  and  fancies,  taught 
by  Ignatius  or  another,  that  lies  will  be  tlie  salvation 
of  it !  We  of  these  late  centuries  have  suffered  as  the 
Sons  of  Adam  never  did  before  ;  hebetated,  sunk  under 
mountains  of  torpid  leprosy  ;  and  studying  to  persuade 
ourselves  that  this  is  health. 

And  if  we  have  awakened  from  the  sleep  of  death 
into  the  Sorcerer's  Sabbath  of  Anarchy,  is  it  not  the 
chief  of  blessings  that  we  are  awake  at  all?  Thanks 
to  Transcendent  Sansculottism  and  the  long-memora- 
ble French  Revolution,  the  one  veritable  and  tremen- 
dous Gospel  of  these  bad  ages,  divine  Gospel  such 
as  we  deserved,  and  merciful  too,  though  preached  in 
thunder  and  terror !  Napoleon  Campaignings,  Sep- 
tember Massacres,  Reigns  of  Terror,  Auacharsis  Clootz 
and  Pontiff  Robespierre,  and  still  more  beggarly  tragi- 
calities  that  we  have  since  seen,  and  are  still  to  see  : 
what  frightful  thing  were  not  a  little  less  frightful 
than  the  thing  we  had  ?  Peremptory  was  our  neces- 
sity of  putting  Jesnitism  away,  of  awakening  to  the 
consciousness  of  Jesuitism.  -  Horrible.'  yes  :  how 
could  it  be  other  than  horrible  ?  Like  the  valley  of 
Jehosaphat,  it  lies  round  us,  one  nightmare  wilder- 
ness, and  wreck  of  dead-men's  bones,  this  false  modern 
world  ;  and  no  rapt  Ezechiel  in  prophetic  vision 
imaged  to  himself  things  sadder,  more  horrible  and 
terrible,  than  the  eyes  of  men,  if  they  are  awake,  may 
now  deliberately  see.     Many  yet  sleep;  but  the  sleep 


JESUITISM.  897 

of  all,  as  we  judge  by  their  maundering  and  jargon- 
ing,  their  Gorham  Controversies,  street-barricadings, 
and  uneasy  tossings  and  somnambulisms,  is  not  far 
from  ending.  Novahs  says,  '  We  are  near  awakening 
when  we  dream  that  xoe  are  dreamiu":.'' 


A  man's  'religion  '  consists  not  of  the  many  things 
he  is  in  doubt  of  and  tries  to  believe,  but  of  the  few 
he  is  assured  of,  and  has  no  need  of  effort  for  believ- 
ing. His  religion,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  a  discerned 
fact,  and  coherent  system  of  discerned  facts  to  him  ; 
he  stands  fronting  the  worlds  and  the  eternities  upon 
it  :  to  doubt  of  it  is  not  permissible  at  all !  He  must 
verify  or  expel  his  doubts,  convert  them  into  certainty 
of  Yes  or  No  ;  or  they  Avill  be  the  death  of  his  reli- 
gion.—  But,  on  the  other  hand,  convert  them  into 
certainty  of  Yes  and  No  ;  or  even  of  Yes  though  No, 
as  the  Ignatian  method  is,  what  will  become  of  your 
religion  !  Let  us  glance  a  little  at  this  strange  aspect 
of  our  affairs. 

What  a  man's  or  nation's  available  religion  at  any 
time  is,  may  sometimes,  especially  if  he  abound  in 
Bishops,  Gorham  Controversies,  and  richly  endowed 
Churches  and  Church-practices,  be  difficult  to  say. 
For  a  Nation  which,  under  very  peculiar  circumstances, 
closed  its  Bible  about  two  hiuidred  years  ago,  hanged 
the  dead  body  of  its  CromwclL  and  ar.^of'ted  one 
Cha;les  Second  for  Defender  of  its   F'aifh   S(^-ca!k:d  ; 


398  JESUITISM. 

for  such  a  Nation,  which  has  closed  its  Bible,  and 
decided  that  tlie  sufficient  and  much  handier  practice 
would  be  to  kiss  the  outside  of  said  Bible,  and  in  all 
senses  swear  zealously  by  the  same  without  opening 
it  again.  —  the  question  what  its  'religion'  is,  may 
naturally  be  involved  in  obscurities  !  Such  drama- 
turgic fugle-worship  going  on  everywhere,  and  kissing 
of  the  closed  Bible,  what  real  worship,  religion^  or 
recognition  of  a  Divine  Necessity  in  Nature  and  Life, 
there  may  be  —  Or,  in  fact,  is  there  any  left  at  all  ? 
Very  little,  I  should  say. 

The  religion  of  a  man  in  these  strange  circum- 
stances, what  living  conviction  he  has  about  his 
Destiny  in  this  Universe,  falls  into  a  most  strange 
condition  ;  — and,  in  truth,  I  have  observed,  is  apt  to 
take  refuge  in  the  stomach  mainly.  The  man  goes 
through  his  prescribed  fugle-motions  at  church  and 
elsewhere,  keeping  his  conscience  and  sense  of 
decency  at  ease  thereby  ;  and  in  some  empty  part  of 
his  brain,  if  he  have  fancy  left,  or  brain  other  than  a 
beaver's,  there  goes  on  occasionally  some  dance  of 
dreamy  hypotheses,  sentimental  echoes,  shadows,  and 
other  inane  make-believes,  —  which  I  think  are  quite 
the  contrary  of  a  possession  to  him  ;  leading  to  no 
clear  Faith,  or  divine  life-and-death  Certainty  of  any 
kind  ;  but  to  a  torpid  species  of  deliriuin  somnians 
and  delirium,  stertens  rather.  In  his  head  or  in  his 
heart,  this  man  has  of  available  religion,  none.  But 
descend  into  his  stomach,  purse  and  the  adjacent 
regions,  you  then  do  awaken,  even  in  the  very  last 
extremity,  a  set  of  divine  beliefs,  were  it  only  belief 
in  the  multii  li  at  ion-table,  and  certain  coarser  gqtward 


JESUITISM.  399 

forms  of  7iieum  and  tinuji.  He  believes  in  the  inal- 
ienable nature  of  purchased  beef,  in  the  duty  of  the 
British  citizen  to  fight  for  himself  when  injured,  and 
other  similar  faiths:  —  an  actual  'religion'  of  its 
sort,  or  revelation  of  what  the  Almighty  Maker  means 
with  him  in  this  Earth,  and  has  irrefragably,  as  by 
direct  inspiration,  charged  him  to  do.  This  is  the 
man's  religion  ;  this  poor  scantling  of  '  divine  con- 
victions '  which  you  find  lying,  mostly  inarticulate, 
in  deep  sleep  at  the  bottom  of  his  stomach,  and  have 
such  difficulty  in  raising  into  any  kind  of  elocution 
or  conscious  wakefulness. 

Alas,  so  much  of  him,  his  soul  almost  wholly,  is 
not  only  asleep  there,  but  gone  drowned  and  dead. 
The"  '  religion '  you  awaken  in  him  is  often  of  a  very 
singular  quality  ;  enough  to  make  the  observer  pause 
in  silence.  Such  a  religion,  issuing  practically  in 
Hudson  Statues,  and,  alas,  also  in  Distressed  Needle- 
women, Cannibal  Connaughts,  and  'remedial  meas- 
ures suited  to  the  occasion,'  was  never  seen  among 
Adam's  Posterity  before.  But  it  is  this  modern  man's 
religion  ;  all  the  religion  you  will  get  of  him.  And 
if  you  can  winnow  out  the  fugle-motions,  fantasies, 
sentimentalisms,  make-believes,  and  other  multitudi- 
nous chaff,  so  that  his  religion  stands  before  you  in 
its  net  condition,  you  may  contemplate  it  with  scien- 
tific astonishment,  with  innumerable  reflections,  and 
may  perhaps  draw  wise  inferences  from  it. 

A  singular  piece  of  scribble,  in  Sauerteig's  band, 
bearing  marks  of  haste  and  almost  of  rage  (for  the 
words,  abbreviated  to  the  bone,  tumble  about  as  if  in 
battle  on  the  paper),  occurs  to  me  at  this  moment, 


400  JESUITISM. 

entitled  Schwein^sche  Weltansicht ;  and  I  will  try  to 
decipher  and  translate  it. 

i  Pig  Philosophy. 

'If  the  inestimable  talent  of  Literatnre  should,  in 
these  swift  days  of  progress,  be  extended  to  the  brute 
creation,  having  fairly  taken  in  all  the  human,  so  that 
swine  and  oxen  could  communicate  to  us  on  paper 
what  they  thought  of  the  Universe,  there  might  cu- 
rious results,  not  uninstructive  to  some  of  us,  ensue. 
Supposing  swine  (I  mean  four-footed  swine),  of  sen- 
sibility and  superior  logical  parts,  had  attained  such 
culture  ;  and  could,  after  survey  and  reflection,  jot 
down  for  us  their  notion  of  the  Universe,  and  of  their 
interests  and  duties  there,  —  might  it  not  well  interest 
a  discerning  public,  perhaps  in  unexpected  ways,  and 
give  a  stimulus  to  the  languishing  book-trade  ?  The 
votes  of  all  creatures,  it  is  understood  at  present, 
ought  to  be  had  ;  that  you  may  "  legislate  "  for  them 
with  better  insight.  '^  How  can  you  govern  a  thing," 
say  many,  ''without  first  asking  its  vote?"  Unless, 
indeed,  you  already  chance  to  know  its  vote,  —  and 
even  something  more,  namely,  what  you  are  to  think 
of  its  vote :  what  it  wants  by  its  vote  ;  and,  still  more 
important,  what  Nature  wants,  —  which  latter,  at  the 
end  of  the  account,  is  the  only  thing  that  will  be  got ! 

Pig  Propositions,  in  a  rough  form,  are  somewhat 

as  follows : 

'  1.  The  Universe,  so  far  as  sane  conjecture  can  go, 
is  an  immeasurable  Swine's  trough,  consisting  of  solid 
and  liquid,  and  of  other  contrasts  and  kinds  ]  —  es- 


JESUITISM.  491 

pecially  consisting  of  attainable  and  unattainable,  the 
latter  in  nnmensely  greater  quantities  for  most  pigs. 

'2.  Moral  evil  is  unattainability  of  Pjg's-wash  ; 
moral  good,  attainability  of  ditto. 

'  3.  "  What  is  Paradise,  or  the  State  of  Innocence  ? '' 
Paradise,  called  also  State  of  Innocence,  Age  of  Gold, 
and  other  names,  was  (according  to  Pigs  of  weak  judg- 
ment) unlimited  attainability  of  Pig's-wash  ;  perfect 
fulfilment  of  one's  wishes,  so  that  the  Pig's  imagina- 
tion could  not  outrun  reality  :  a  fable  and  an  impos- 
sibility, as  Pigs  of  sense  now  sec. 

'4.  "  Define  the  Whole  Duty  of  Pigs."  It  is  the 
mission  of  universal  Pighood,  and  the  duty  of  all 
Pigs,  at  all  times,  to  diminish  the  quantity  of  unattain- 
able and  increase  that  of  attainable.  All  knowledge 
and  device  and  effort  ought  to  be  directed  thither  and 
thither  only  ;  Pig  Science,  Pig  Enthusiasm  and  De- 
votion have  this  one  aim.  It  is  the  Whole  Duty  of 
Pigs. 

'  5.  Pig  Poetry  ought  to  consist  of  universal  recog- 
nition of  the  excellence  of  Pig's-wash  and  ground 
barley,  and  the  felicity  of  Pigs  whose  trough  is  in 
order,  and  who  have  had  enough  :  Hrumph  ! 

'  6.  The  Pig  knows  the  weather  ;  he  ought  to  look 
out  what  kind  of  weather  it  will  be. 

'  7.  "  Who  made  the  Pig  ?  "  Unknown  ;  —  per- 
haps the  Pork-butcher  ? 

'8.  "Have  you  Law  and  Justice  in  Pigdom  ?  " 
Pigs  of  observation  have  discerned  that  there  is,  or 
was  once  supposed  to  be,  a  thing  called  justice.  Un- 
deniably at  least  there  is  a  sentiment  in  Pig-nature 
called  indignation,  revenge  &c.,  which,  if  one  Pig 
34* 


402  JESUITISM. 

provoke  another,  comes  out  in  a  more  or  less  destruc- 
tive manner :  hence  laws  are  necessary,  amazing  quan- 
tities of  laws.  For  quarrelling  is  attended  with  loss 
of  blood,  of  life,  at  any  rate  with  frightful  eiTnsion  of 
the  general  stock  of  Hog's-wash,  and  ruin  (temporary 
ruin)  to  large  sections  of  the  universal  Swine's-trough : 
wherefore  let  justice  be  observed,  that  so  quarrelling 
be  avoided. 

'9.  "What  is  justice?"  Your  own  share  of  the 
general  Swine's-trough,  not  any  portion  of  my  share. 

'  10.  '^  But  \vhat  is  '  my  '  share  ?  "  Ah  !  there  in 
fact  lies  the  grand  difficulty  ;  upon  which  Pig  science, 
meditating  this  long  wiiile,  can  settle  absolutely 
nothing.  My  share  —  hrumph  ! — my  share  is,  on 
the  whole,  whatever  I  can  contrive  to  get  without 
being  hanged  or  sent  to  the  hulks.  For  there  are 
gibbets,  treadmills,  I  need  not  tell  you,  and  rules 
which  Lawyers  have  prescribed. 

'11.  "  Who  are  Lawyers  ? "  Servants  of  God,  ap- 
pointed revealers  of  the  oracles  of  God,  who  read  oiF 
to  us  from  day  to  day  what  is  the  eternal  Command- 
ment of  God  in  reference  to  the  mutual  claims  of  his 
creatures  in  this  w^orld. 

'  12.  "  Where  do  they  find  that  written  ?  "  In 
Coke  upon  Lyttleton. 

'  13.  "  Who  made  Coke  ?  "  Unknown  :  the  maker 
of  Coke's  wig  is  discoverable.  —  "  What  became  of 
Coke  ?  "  Died.  —  "  And  then  ?  "  Went  to  the  un- 
dertaker; w^ent  to  the' But  we  must  pull  up: 

Sauerteig's  fierce  humor,  confounding  ever  farther  in 
his  haste  the  fourfooted  with  the  twofooted  animal, 
rushes  into  wilder  and  wilder  forms  of  satirical  torch- 


JESUITISM.  403 

dancing,  and  threatens  to  end  in  a  universal  Rape  of 
the  Wigs,  wliich  in  a  person  of  his  character  looks 
ominous  and  dangerous.  Here,  for  example,  is  his 
fifty-first  'Proposition,'  as  he  calls  it: 

'51.  "  What  are  Bishops  ?  "  Overseers  of  souls.  — 
''  What  is  a  soul  ?  "  The  thing  tliat  keeps  the  body- 
alive. —  "How  do  they  oversee  that?"  They  tie 
on  a  kind  of  aprons,  publish  charges;  I  believe  they 
j>ray  dreadfully;  macerate  themselves  nearly  dead 
with  continual  grief  that  they  cannot  in  the  least 
oversee  it. — "And  are  much  honored?"  By  the 
wise  very  much. 

'  52.  "  Define  the  Church."  I  had  rather  not.  -^ 
"Do  you  believe  in  a  Future  state?  "  Yes,  surely. 
—  "  What  is  it  ?  "  Heaven,  so-called.  —  "  To  every- 
body?" I  understand  so;  hope  so!  —  "What  is  it 
thought  to  be?"  Hrumph!  — "No  Hell,  then,  at 
all?"_Hrumph!' 


The  Fine  Arts  are  by  some  thought  to  be  a  kind 
of  religion  ;  the  chief  religion  this  poor  Europe  is  to 
have  in  time  coming:  and  undoubtedly  it  is  in  Lit- 
erature, Poetry,  and  the  other  kindred  Arts,  where  at 
least  a  certain  manliness  of  temper,  and  liberty  to  fol- 
low truth,  prevails  or  might  prevail,  that  the  world's 
chosen  souls  do  now  chiefly  take  refuge,  and  attempt 
what  '  Worship  of  the  Beautiful '  may  still  be  possi- 
ble for  them.  The  Poet  in  the  Fine  Arts,  especially 
the  Poet  in  Speech,  what  Fichte  calls  the  '  Scholar ' 
or  the  '  Literary  Man,'  is  defined  by  Fichte  as  the 


4C4  JESUITIS3T. 

'Priest'  of  these  Modern  Epochs,  —  all  tlic  Priest 
they  have.  And  indeed  Nature  herself  will  teach  us 
that  tlie  man  born  with  what  wo  call  '  genius,'  which 
will  mean,  born  with  better  and  larger  understanding 
than  others ;  the  man  in  whom  '  the  inspiration  of 
the  Almighty,'  given  to  all  men,  has  a  higher  poten- 
tiality; —  that  ho,  and  properly  he  only,  is  the  per- 
petual Priest  of  Men ;  ordained  to  the  office  by  God 
himself,  whether  men  can  be  so  lucky  as  to  get  him 
ordained  to  it  or  not :  nay  he  does  the  office,  too, 
after  a  sort,  in  this  and  in  all  epochs.  Ever  must  the 
Fine  xirts  be  if  not  religion,  yet  indissolubly  united 
to  it,  dependent  on  it,  vitally  blended  with  it  as  body 
is  with  soul. 

Why  should  I  say,  Ignatius  Loyola  ruined  our  Fine 
Arts?  Ignatius  thought  not  of  the  Fine  Arts  ;  nor 
is  the  guilt  all  his.  Ignatius,  intent  on  the  heart  of 
the  matter,  did  but  consecrate  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
and  religiously  welcome  as  life  in  God,  the  universal 
death  in  the  Devil  which  of  itself  was  preparing  to 
come,  —  on  the  Fine  Arts  as  on  all  things.  The 
Fine  Arts  are  not  what  I  most  regret  in  the  catas- 
trophe so  frightfully  accelerated  and  consummated  by 
him !  If  men's  practical  faith  have  become  a  Pig 
Philosophy,  and  their  divine  worship  have  become  a 
Mumbojumboism,  soliciting  in  dumb  agony  either 
change  to  the  very  heart  or  else  extinction  and  aboli- 
tion, it  matters  little  what  their  fine  or  other  arts  may 
be.  All  arts,  industries  and  pursuits  they  have,  are 
tainted  to  the  heart  with  foul  poison  ;  carry  not  in 
them  the  inspiration  of  God,  but  (  rightful  to  think 
of!)  that  of  the  Devil  calling  and  thinking  himself 


JESUITISM.  405 

God ;  and  are  smitten  with  a  curse  forevermore. 
What  judgment  the  Academy  of  Cognoscenti  may 
pronounce  on  them,  is  unimportant  to  me  ;  what 
splendor  of  upholstery  and  French  cookery,  and  tem- 
porary bullion  at  the  Bank,  may  be  realized  from 
them,  is  important  to  M-Crowdy,  not  to  me. 

Such  bullion,  I  perceive  well,  can  but  be  tempo- 
rary; —  and  if  it  were  to  be  eternal,  would  bulHon 
reconcile  me  to  them  ?  No,  M-Crowdy,  never.  Bul- 
lion, temporary  bullion  itself,  awakens  the  hallelujah 
of  flunkeys ;  but  even  eternal  bullion  ought  to  make 
small  impression  upon  men.  To  men  I  count  it  a 
human  blessedness,  and  stern  benignity  of  Heaven, 
that  when  their  course  is  false  and  ignoble,  their  bul- 
lion begins  to  leave  them ;  that  ultimate  bankruptcy, 
and  flat  universal  ruin,  published  in  the  gazette,  and 
palpable  even  to  flunkeys,  follows  step  by  step,  at  a 
longer  or  shorter  interval,  all  solecisms  under  this  sun. 
Certain  as  shadow  follows  substance  ;  it  is  the  oldest 
law  of  Fate  :  —  and  one  good  day,  open  ruin,  bank- 
ruptcy and  foul  destruction,  does  overtake  them  all. 
Let  us  bless  God  for  it.  Were  it  otherwise,  what  ei]d 
could  there  be  of  solecisms?  The  temporary  para- 
dise of  quacks  and  flunkeys,  were  now  an  eternal 
paradise  ;  how  could  the  noble  soul  find  harbor  or 
patience  in  this  world  at  all  ?  This  world  were  the 
inheritance  of  the  ignoble  ;  — a  very  Bedlam,  as  some 
sceptics  have  fancied  it ;  made  by  malignant  gods  in 
their  sport. 

But  as  to  Jesuitism  in  the  Fine  Arts,  and  how  its 
unsuspected  thrice-unblessed  presence  here  too  smites 
the   genius   of  mankind   with    paralysis,   there   were 


406 


JESUITISM. 


much  to  be  said.  Sorrowful  reflections  lie  in  that, 
far  beyond  what  a  discerning  public  fancies  in  these 
days  ;  reflections  which  cannot  be  entered  upon, 
which  can  hardly  be  indicated  afar  ofl",  at  present. 
Here  too,  as  elsewhere,  the  consummate  flower  of 
Consecrated  Unveracity  reigns  supreme  ;  and  here  as 
elsewhere  peaceably  presides  over  an  enormous  Life- 
in- Death  ! 

"  May  the  Devil  fly  away  with  the  Fine  Arts  !  " 
exclaimed  confidentially  once,  m  my  hearing,  one  of 
our  most  distinguished  public  men  ;  a  sentiment  that 
ot^ten  recurs  to  me.  I  perceive  too  well  how  true  it  is, 
in  our  case.  A  public  man,  intent  on  any  real  busi- 
ness, does,  I  suppose,  find  the  Fine  Arts  rather  imagi- 
nary. The  Fine  Arts,  wherever  they  turn  up  as 
business,  whatever  Committee  sit  upon  them,  are  sure 
to  be  the  parent  of  much  empty  talk,  laborious  hypoc- 
risy, dilettantism,  futility  ;  involving  huge  trouble  and 
expense  and  babble,  which  end  in  no  result,  if  not  in 
worse  than  none.  The  practical  man,  in  his  mo- 
ments of  sincerity,  feels  them  to  be  a  pretensions 
nothingness  ;  a  confused  superfluity  and  nuisance, 
purchased  with  cost,  —  what  he  in  brief  language 
denominates  a  bore.  It  is  truly  so,  in  these  degraded 
days  :  —  and  the  Fine  Arts,  among  other  fine  interests 
of  ours,  are  really  called  to  recognize  it,  and  see  what 
they  will  do  in  it.  For  they  are  become  the  Throne 
of  Hypocrisy,  I  think  the  highest  of  her  many  thrones, 
these  said  Arts;  which  is  very  sad  to  consider!  No- 
where, not  even  on  a  gala-day  in  the  Pope's  Church 
of  St.  Peter,  is  there  such  an  explosion  of  intolerable 


JESXTITISIil.  407 

hypocrisy,  on  the  part  of  poor  mankind,  as  when  you 
admit  them  into  their  Royal  Picture-gallery,  Glypto- 
thek,  Museum,  or  other  divine  Temjjle  of  the  Fine 
Arts.  Hypocrisy  doubly  intolerable  ;  because  it  is 
not  here,  as  in  St.  Peter's  and  some  other  Churches, 
an  obliged  hypocrisy  but  a  voluntary  one.  Nothing 
but  your  own  vanity  prompts  you  here  to  pretend 
worshipping  ;  you  are  not  bound  to  worship,  and 
twaddle  pretended  raptures,  criticisms  and  poetic  rec- 
ognitions, unless  you  like  it; — and  you  do  not  the 
least  know  what  a  damnable  practice  it  is,  or  you 
wouldn't !  I  make  a  rule,  these  many  years  back,  to 
speak  almost  nothing,  and  encourage  no  speech  in 
Picture-galleries  ;  to  avoid  company,  even  that  of 
familiar  friends,  in  such  situations  ;  and  perambulate 
the  place  in  silence.  You  can  thus  worship  or  not 
worship,  precisely  as  the  gods  bid  you  ;  and  are  at 
least  under  no  obligation  to  do  hypocrisies,  if  you 
cannot  conveniently  worship. 

The  fact  is,  though  men  are  not  in  the  least  aware 
of  it,  the  Fine  Arts,  divorced  entirely  from  Truth  this 
long  while,  and  wedded  almost  professedly  to  False- 
hood, Fiction  and  such-like,  are  got  into  what  we  must 
call  an  insane  condition  :  they  walk  abroad  without 
keepers,  nobody  suspecting  their  sad  state,  and  do  fan- 
tastic tricks  equal  to  any  in  Bedlam, —  especially  when 
admitted  to  work  '  regardless  of  expense,'  as  we  some- 
times see  them  !  What  earnest  soul  passes  that  new 
St.  Stephen's,  and  its  wilderness  of  stone  pepperboxes 
with  their  tin  flags  atop,  worth  two  millions  I  am  told, 
without  mentally  exclaiming  Apage,  and  cutting  some 
pious  cross  in  the  air !     Tf  that  be  '  ideal  beauty,'  ex- 


4C8  JESUITISM. 

cept  for  siigarworkj  and  the  more  elaborate  kinds  of 
gingerbread,  what  is  real  ngllness?  To  say  merely 
(with  an  architectonic  trumpet-blast  that  cost  two 
millions,)  "Good  Christians,  you  observe  well  I  am 
regardless  of  expense,  and  also  of  veracity,  in  every 
form?"  Too  truly  these  poor  Fine  Arts  have  fallen 
mad ! 

The  Fine  Arts  once  divorcing  themselves  from  truth, 
are  quite  certain  to  fall  mad,  if  they  do  not  die,  and 
get  flown  away  with  by  the  Devil,  which  latter  is  only 
the  second-worst  result  for  us.  Truth,  fact,  is  the 
life  of  all  things  ;  falsity,  '  fiction  '  or  whatever  it  may 
call  itself,  is  certain  to  be  death,  and  is  already  insan- 
ity, to  whatever  thing  takes  up  with  it.  Fiction,  even 
to  the  Fine  Arts,  is  not  a  quite  permissible  thing. 
Sparingly  permissible,  within  iron  limits  ;  or  if  you  will 
reckon  strictly,  not  permissible  at  all !  The  Fine  Arts 
too,  like  the  coarse  and  every  art  of  Man's  god-given 
Faculty,  are  to  understand  that  they  are  sent  hither  not 
to  fib  and  dance,  but  to  speak  and  work  ;  and,  on  the 
whole,  that  God  Almighty's  Fads,  such  as  given  us, 
are  the  one  pabulum  which  will  yield  them  any  nour- 
ishment in  this  world.  O  Heavens,  had  they  always 
well  remembered  that,  what  a  world  were  it  now  ! 

This  seems  strange  doctrine  :  but  it  is  to  me,  this 
long  Avhile,  too  sorrowfully  certain  ;  and  I  invite  all  my 
artist  friends,  of  the  painting,  sculpturing,  speaking, 
writing,  especially  of  the  singing  and  rhyming  depart- 
ment, to  meditate  upon  it,  till,  with  amazement,  re- 
moi'se,  and  determination  to  amend,  they  get  to  see 
what  lies  in  it !  Homer's  Iliad,  if  you  examine,  is  no 
Fiction  but  a  Ballad  History  ;  the  heart  of  it  burning 


JESUITISM. 


409 


witlj  enthusiastic  ill-informed  belief.  Ic  '  sings  '  itself, 
because  its  rude  heart,  rapt  into  transcendency  of  zeal 
and  admiration,  is  too  full  for  speaking.  The  'valor 
of  Tydides,'  'wrath  of  the  divine  Achilles:'  in  old 
Greece,  in  Phthiotis  and  ^tolia,  to  earnest  souls  that 
could  believe  them,  these  things  were  likely  to  be  in- 
teresting !  Human  speech  was  once  wholly  true  ;  as 
transcendent  human  speech  still  is.  The  Hebrew 
Bible,  is  it  not,  before  all  things,  true,  as  no  other  Book 
ever  was  or  will  be  ?  All  great  Poems,  all  great  Books, 
if  you  search  the  first  foundation  of  their  greatness, 
have  been  veridical,  the  truest  they  could  get  to  be. 
Never  will  there  be  a  great  Poem  more  that  is  not 
veridical,  that  does  not  ground  itself  on  the  Interpret- 
ing of  Fact ;  to  the  rigorous  exclusion  of  all  falsity, 
fiction,  idle  dross  of  every  kind  :  never  can  a  Poem 
truly  interest  human  souls,  except  by,  in  the  first 
place,  takiug  with  it  the  belief  o^  said  souls.  Their 
belief;  tliat  is  the  whole  basis,  essence,  and  practical 
ontcome,  of  human  souls  :  leave  that  behind  you,  as 
'  Poets  '  everywhere  have  for  a  long  time  done,  what 
is  there  left  the  Poets  and  you! 

The  early  Nations  of  the  world,  all  Nations  so  long 
as  they  continued  simple  and  in  earnest,  knew  with- 
out teaching  that  their  History  was  an  Epic  and 
Bible,  the  clouded  struggling  image  of  a  God's  Pres- 
ence, the  action  of  heroes  and  god-inspired  men. 
The  noble  intellect  that  could  disinthrall  such  divine 
image,  and  present  it  to  them  clear,  unclouded,  in 
visible  coherency  comprehensible  to  human  thought, 
was  felt  to  bo  a  Vatcs  and  the  chief  of  intellects 
85 


410  JESUITISM. 

No  need  to  bid  him  sing  it,  make  a  Poem  of  it  ; 
Nature  herself  compelled  him  ;  except  in  Song  or  in 
Psalm,  such  an  insight  by  human  eyes  into  the  divine 
was  not  utterable.  Tiiese  are  the  Bibles  of  Nations; 
to  each  its  Beheved  History  is  its  Bible.  Not  in 
Judea  alone,  or  Hellas  and  Latium  alone ;  but  in  all 
lauds  and  all  times.  Nor,  deeply  as  the  fact  is  now 
forgotten,  has  it  essentially  in  the  smallest  degree 
ceased  to  be  the  fact,  nor  will  it  cease.  With  every 
Nation  it  is  so,  and  with  every  man ; — for  every  Nation, 
I  suppose,  was  made  by  God,  and  every  man  too  ? 
Only  there  are  some  Nations,  like  some  men,  who 
know  it;  and  some  Avho  do  not.  The  great  Nations 
are  they  that  have  known  it  well ;  the  small  and  cori- 
teniptible,  both  of  men  and  Nations,  are  they  that 
have  either  never  known  it,  or  soon  forgotten  it  and 
never  laid  jt  to  heart.  Of  these  comes  nothing. 
The  measure  of  a  Nation's  greatness,  of  its  worth 
under  this  sky  to  God  and  to  men,  is  not  the  quantity 
of  cotton  it  can  spin,  the  quantity  of  bullion  it  has 
released  ;  but  the  quantity  of  heroisms  it  has  achieved, 
^of  noble  pieties  and  valiant  wisdoms  that  were  in 
it,  —  that  still  are  in  it. 

Beyond  doubt  the  Almighty  Maker  made  this  Eng- 
land too;  and  has  been  and  forever  is  miraculously 
present  here.  The  more  is  the  pity  for  us  if  our  eyes 
are  grown  owlish,  and  cain:iot  see  this  fact  of  facts 
when  it  is  before  us  !  Once  it  w^as  known  that  the 
Highest  did  of  a  surety  dwell  in  this  Nation,  divinely 
avenging,  and  divinely  saving  and  rewarding  ;  lead- 
ing, by  steep  and  flaming  paths,  by  heroisms,  pieties 
and  noble  acts  and  thoughts,  this  Nation  heavenward, 


JESUITISM. 


411: 


if  i?" would  and  dared.  Known  or  not,  this  (or  else 
the  terrible  inverse  of  this)  is  forevermore  the  fact  ! 
The  History  of  England  too.  had  the  Fine  or  other  Arts 
taught  us  to  read  it  right,  is  the  record  of  the  Divine 
Appearances  among  ns  ;  of  the  brightnesses  out  of 
Heaven  that  have  irradiated  our  terrestrial  struggle  ; 
and  spaiuied  our  wild  deluges,  and  weltering  seas  of 
trouble,  as  with  celestial  rainbows,  and  symbols  of 
eternal  covenants.  It  is  the  Bible  of  the  Nation  ; 
what  part  of  it  they  have  laid  to  heart,  and  do  prac- 
tically know  for  truth,  is  the  available  Bible  they 
have . 

Ask  yourselves.  What  are  the  eternal  covenants 
which  you  can  believe,  and  dare  not  for  your  life's 
sake  but  go  and  observe  ?  These  are  your  Bible, 
your  God's  Word  such  as  it  may  be  :  these  you  will 
continually  struggle  to  obey;  other  thjpa  these,  not 
continually,  or  authentically  at  all.  Did  the  Maker  of 
this  Universe  reveal  himself,  to  your  believing  Intel- 
lect, in  Scrip  mainly,  in  Cotton  Trades,  and  profita- 
ble indnstries  and  gamblings  ?  Here  too  you  will 
see  'miracles:'  tubular  bridges,  gutta-percha  tele- 
graphs ;  not  to  speak  of  sudden  Hudson  cornucopias, 
scrip  manna-showers,  and  pillar-of-cloud  for  all  the 
flnnkeys, — miracles  after  a  sort.  Your  Bible  will 
be  a  Political  Economy;  your  psalmist  and  evangelist 
will  be  M'Crowdy ;  your  practical  worship  the  insa- 
tiable desire,  and  continual  sacred  effort,  to  make 
money.  Bible,  of  one  or  the  other  sort,  bible,  evan- 
gelist, and  worship  you  infallibly  will  have: — and 
some  are  God-worships,  fruitful  in  human  heroisms, 
in  blessed   arts,  and   deeds  long-memorable,  shining 


412  JESUITISM. 

with  a  sacred  splendor  of  the  empyrean  across  all 
earthly  darknesses  and  contradictions  :  and  some 
again  are,  to  a  terrible  extent,  Devil-worships,  frnitfnl 
in  temporary  bnllion,  in  upholstery,  gluttony  and 
universal  varnish  and  gold-leaf;  and  issuing,  alas,  at 
length  in  street-barricades,  and  a  confused  return  of 
them  to  the  Devil  whose  they  are! — My  friend,  I 
have  to  speak  in  crude  language,  the  wretched  times 
being  dumb  and  deaf:  and  if  thou  find  no  truth 
under  this  but  the  phantom  of  an  extinct  Hebrew 
one,  I  at  present  cannot  help  it. 

Hengst  Invasions,  Norman  Conquests,  Battles  of 
Brunanburg,  Battles  of  Evesham,  Towton  ;  Plantage- 
nets,  Wars  of  Roses,  Wars  of  Roundheads  :  does  the 
fool  in  his  heart  believe  all  this  was  a  Donnybrook 
Bedlam,  originating  nowhere,  proceeding  nowhither? 
His  beautifully  cultivated  intellect  has  given  him  such 
interpretation,  and  no  better,  of  the  Universe  we  live 
in?  He  discerns  it  to  be  an  enormous  sooty  Weav- 
ing shop,  and  turbid  Manufactory  of  eatables  and 
drinkables  and  wearables  ;  sparingly  supplied  with 
provender,  by  the  industrious  individuals,  and  much 
infested  by  the  mad  and  idle.  And  he  can  consent 
to  live  here  ;  he  does  not  continually  think  of  suicide 
as  a  remedy  ?  The  unhapp)^  mortal  :  if  a  soul  ever 
awaken  in  him  again,  his  first  thought  will  be  of 
prussic-acid,  I  should  say  !  — 

All  history,  whether  M"Crowdy  and  his  Fine  Arts 
know  the  fact  or  not,  is  an  inarticulate  Bible  ;  and  in 
a  dim  intricate  manner  reveals  the  Divine  Appearances 
in  this  lower  world.  For  God  did  make  this  world, 
and  does  forever  govern  it ;  the  loud-roaring  Loom 


JESUITISM. 


413 


of  Time,  with  all  its  French  revohitioiis,  Jewish 
revelations,  'weaves  the  vesture  thou  seest  Him  by.' 
There  is  no  Biography  of  a  man,  much  less  any  His- 
tory, or  Biography  of  a  Nation,  but  wraps  in  it  a 
message  out  of  Heaven,  addressed  to  the  hearing  ear 
or  to  the  not  hearing.  What  this  Universe  is,  what 
the  Laws  of  God  are,  the  Life  of  every  man  will  a 
little  teach  it  you  ;  the  Life  of  All  Men  and  of  All 
Things,  only  this  could  wholly  teach  it  you,  —  and 
you  are  to  be  open  to  learn. 

Who  are  they,  gifted  from  above,  that  will  convert 
voluminous  Dryasdust  into  an  Epic  and  even  a  Bible  ?' 
Who  will  smelt,  in  the  all-victorious  fire  of  his  souL 
these  scandalous  bewildering  rubbish-mountains  of 
sleepy  Dryasdust,  till  they  give  up  the  golden  ingot 
that  lies  imprisoned  in  them  ?  The  veritable  '  reve- 
lation,' this,  of  the  ways  of  God  to  England  ;  how 
the  Almighty  Power,  and  his  mysterious  Providences, 
dealt  heretofore  with  England  ;  more  and  more  what 
the  Almighty's  judgments  with  us,  his  chastisements 
and  his  beneficences,  were;  what  the  Supreme  Will, 
since  ushering  tliis  English  People  on  the  stage  of 
things,  has  guided  them  to  do  and  to  become.  Fine 
Arts.  Literatures,  Poetries  ?  If  they  are  Human  Arts 
at  all,  where  have  they  been  woolgathering,  these 
centuries  long  ;  —  wandering  literally  like  creatures 
fallen  mad  ! 

It  awakens  graver  thoughts  than  were  in  Marlbor- 
ough, that  saying  of  his,  That  he  knew  no  English 
History  but  what  he  had  learned  from  Shakspeare. 
In  Shakspeare's  grand  intelligence  the"  History  of 
England,  cursory  as  was  his  study  of  it,  does  model 


4 14  JESUITISM. 

itself,  for  the  first  time,  into  something  of  rhythmic 
and  poetic  ;  there  are  scattered  traits  and  tones  of  a 
National  Epos  in  those  Historical  Plays  of  his.  In 
Shakspeare,  more  than  in  another,  lay  that  high  vates 
talent  of  interpreting  confused  human  Actualities, 
and  unfolding  what  divine  melodious  Ideals,  or 
Thoughts  of  the  Supreme,  were  embodied  in  them: 
he,  more  than  any  other,  might  have  done  somewhat 
towards  making  History  a  Bible.  But,  alas,  it  was 
not  in  the  Temple  of  the  Nations,  with  all  intelli- 
gences ministering  to  him  and  cooperating  with  him, 
that  his  workshop  was  laid  ;  it  was  in  the  Bankside 
Playhouse  that  Shakspeare  was  set  to  work,  and  the 
sovereign  populace  had  ware  for  their  sixpence  from 
him  there  !  — 

After  all,  I  do  not  blame  the  poor  Fine  Arts  for 
taking  into  fiction,  and  into  all  the  deeper  kinds  of 
falsity  which  grow  from  that.  Ignatius,  and  a  world 
too  ready  to  follow  him.,  had  discovered  the  divine 
virtues  of  fiction  in  far  higher  provinces  ;  the  road  to 
fiction  lay  w^ide-open  for  all  things  !  But  Nature's 
eternal  voice,  inaudible  at  present  or  faintly  audible, 
proclaims  the  contrary  nevertheless  ;  and  will  make 
it  known  again  one  day.  Fiction,  I  think,  or  idle 
falsity  of  any  kind,  was  never  tolerable,  except  in  a 
world  which  did  itself  abound  in  practical  lies  and 
solemn  shams  ;  and  which  had  gradually  impressed 
on  its  inhabitants  the  inane  form  of  character  tolerant 
of  that  kind  of  ware.  A  serious  soul,  can  it  wish, 
even  in  hours  of  relaxation,  that  you  should  fiddle 
empty  nonsense  to  it  ?     A  serious  soul  would  desire 


jESUiTTsr.1.  415 

to  be  entertained,  either  with  absolute  silence,  or  with 
what  was  truth,  and  had  fruit  in  it,  and  was  made  by 
the  Maker  of  us  all.  With  the  idle  soul  I  can  fancy 
it  far  otherwise  ;  but  only  with  the  idle. 

Given  an  idle  potentate,  monster  of  opulence,  glut- 
tonous bloated  Nawaub,  of  black  color  or  of  white,  — 
naturally  he  will  have  prating  story-tellers  to  amuse 
his  half-sleepy  hours  of  rumination  ;  if  from  his  deep 
gross  stomach,  sinking  overloaded  as  if  towards  its 
last  torpor,  they  can  elicit  any  transient  glow  of  inter- 
est, tragic  or  comic,  especially  any  wrinkle  of  momen- 
tary laughter,  however  idle,  great  shall  be  their  re- 
ward. Wits,  story-tellers,  ballad-singers,  especially 
dancing-girls  who  understand  their  trade,  are  in  much 
request  with  such  gluttonous  half-sleeping,  black  or 
white  Monster  of  Opulence.  A  bevy  of  supple  dan- 
cing-girls who,  with  the  due  mixture  (mixture  settled 
by  custom),  and  with  not  more  than  the  due  mixture, 
of  lascivious  fire,  will  represent  to  him,  brandishing 
their  daggers,  and  rhythmically  chanting  and  postur- 
ing, the  Loves  of  Vishnu,  Loves  of  Adonis,  Death  of 
Psyche,  Barber  of  Seville,  or  whatever  nonsense  there 
may  be,  according  to  time  or  country :  these  are  the 
kind  of  artists  fit  for  such  unfortunate  stuffed  stupefied 
Nawaub,  in  his  hours  of  rumination  ;  upon  these  his 
hot  heavy-laden  eye  may  rest  without  abhorrence  j 
if  with  perceptible  momentary  satisfaction  emerging 
from  his  bottomless  ennui,  —  then  victory  and  gold- 
purses  to  the  artist ;  be  such  artist  crowned  with  lau- 
rel or  with  parsley,  and  declared  divine  in  presence 
of  all  men. 

Luxurious   Europe,    in  its   reading   publics,  dilet- 


416  JESUITISM. 

tanti,  cognoscenti  and  other  publics,  is  wholly  one  big 
ugly  Nawaub  of  that  kind  ;  who  has  converted  all  the 
Fine  Arts  into  after-dinner  amnsements ;  slave  ad- 
juncts to  his  cookeries,  upholsteries,  tailories,  and 
other  palpably  Coarse  Arts.  The  brutish  monster  has 
turned  all  the  Nine  IMuses,  who  by  birth  are  sacred 
Priestesses  of  Heaven,  into  scandalous  Bayaderes  ;  and 
they  dance  with  snpple  motions,  to  enlighten  the  vile 
darkness  of  his  ennni  for  him.  Too  truly  mad^  these 
poor  Fine  Arts  !  The  Coarse  Arts  too,  if  he  had  not  an 
authentic  stomach  and  skin,  which  always  bring  him 
a  little  right  again  in  those  departments,  would  go  mad. 

How  all  things  hang  together  !  Universal  Jesuitism 
having  once  lodged  itself  in  the  heart,  you  will  see  it 
in  the  very  finger-nails  by  and  by.  Calculate  how 
far  it  is  from  Sophocles  and  ^schylus  to  Knowles 
and  Scribe  ;  how  Homer  has  gradually  changed  into 
Sir  Harris  Nicholas  ;  or  what  roads  the  human  spe- 
cies must  have  travelled  before  a  Psalm  of  David 
could  become  an  Opera  at  the  Haijmarket,  and  men, 
with  their  divine  gift  of  Music,  instead  of  solemnly 
celebrating  the  highest  fact,  or  'singing  to  the  praise 
of  God,'  consented  to  celebrate  the  lowest  nonsense, 
and  sing  to  the  praise  of  Jenny  Lind  and  the  Gazza 
Ladra,  —  perhaps  the  step  from  Oliver  Cromwell  to 
Lord  John  Russell  will  not  seem  so  unconscionable ! 
I  find  it  within,  and  not  without,  the  order  of  Na- 
ture ;  and  that  all  things,  like  all  men,  are  blood-rela. 
tions  to  one  another. 

This  accursed  nightmare,  which  we  name  Jesuit- 
ism, will  have   to  vanish;  our  conifort  is,   that  life 


JESUITISM.  417 

'tself  is  not  much  longer  possible  otherwise.  But,  I 
say,  have  you  computed  what  a  distance  forwards  it 
may  be  towards  some  iieic  Psalm  of  David  done  with 
our  new  appliances,  and  much  improved  wind-instru- 
ments, grammatical  and  other  ?  That  is  the  distance 
of  the  new  Golden  Age,  my  friend  ;  not  less  than 
that,  I  lament  to  say  !  And  the  centuries  that  inter- 
vene are  a  foul  agonistic  welter  through  the  Stygian 
seas  of  mud :  a  long  Scavenger  Age,  inevitable 
where  the  Mother  of  Abominations  has  long  dwelt  ! 


It  is  to  be  hoped  one  is  not  blind  withal  to  the 
celebrated  virtues  that  are  in  Jesuitism  ;  to  its  mis- 
sionary zeal,  its  contempt  of  danger,  its  scientific, 
heroic  and  other  prowesses,  of  which  there  is  such 
celebrating.  I  do  not  doubt  that  there  are  virtues  in 
it;  that  we  and  it,  along  with  this  immeasurable  sea 
of  miseries  which  it  has  brought  upon  us,  shall  ulti- 
mately get  the  benefit  of  its  virtues  too.  Peruvian 
bark,  of  use  in  human  agues  ;  tidings  from  the  fabu- 
lous East  by  D'Herbelot,  Du  Halde,  and  others ;  ex- 
amples of  what  human  energy  and  faculty  are  equal 
to,  even  under  the  inspiration  of  Ignatius  :  nothing 
of  this  small  residue  of  pearls  from  such  a  continent 
of  putrid  shellfish,  shall  be  lost  to  the  world.  Nay,  I 
see,  across  this  black  deluge  of  Consecrated  Falsity, 
the  world  ripening  towards  glorious  new  develop- 
ments, unimagined  hitherto,  —  of  which  this  abomi- 
nable mud-deluge  itself,  threatening  to  submerge  us 
all,  was  the  inevitable  precursor,  and  the  means  de- 
creed by  the  Eternal.     If  it  please  Heaven,  we  shall 


418  JESUITISM, 

all  yet  make  our  Exodus  from  Houndsditch,  and  bid 
the  sordid  continents,  of  once  rich  apparel  now  grown 
poisonons  Ou'-Clo\  a  mild  farewell!  Exodns  into 
wider  horizons,  into  God's  daylight  once  more  ;  where 
eternal  skies,  measuring  77io?'e  than  three  ells,  shall 
again  overarch  us  ;  and  men,  immeasurably  richer  for 
having  dwelt  among  the  Hebrews,  shall  pursue  their 
Jnunan  pilgrimage,  St.  Ignatius  and  much  other 
saintship,  and  superstitious  terror  and  lumber,  lying 
safe  behind  us,  like  the  nightmares  of  a  sleep  that  is 
past  !  — 

I  said  the  virtue  of  obedience  was  not  to  be  found 
except  among  the  Jesuits  :  how,  in  fact,  among  the 
.4n^2- Jesuits,  still  in  a  revolutionary  posture  in  this 
world,  can  you  expect  it  ?  Sansculottism  is  a  rebel ; 
has  its  birth,  and  being,  in  open  mutiny;  and  cannot 
give  you  examples  of  obedience.  It  is  so  with  several 
other  virtues  and  cardinal  virtues  ;  they  seem  to  have 
vanished  from  the  world  ;  —  and  I  often  say  to  myself, 
Jesuitism  and  other  Superstitious  Scandals  cannot  go, 
till  we  have  read  and  appropriated  from  them  the 
tradition  of  these  lost  noblenesses,  and  once  more 
under  the  new  conditions  made  them  ours.  Jesuitism, 
the  Papa  with  his  three  hats,  and  whole  continents 
of  chimerical  lumber  will  then  go  ;  their  errand  being 
wholly  done.  We  cannot  make  our  Exodus  from 
Houndsditch  till  we  have  got  our  own  along  with  us! 
The  Jew  old-clothes  having  now  grown  fairly  pesti- 
lential, a  poisonous  encumbrance  in  the  path  of  men, 
burn  them  np  with  revolutionary  fire,  as  you  like  and 
can:  even  so,  —  but  you  shall  not  quit  the  place  till 
you  have  gathered  from  their  ashes  what  of  gold  or 


JESUITISM.  419 

Other  enduring  metal  was  sewed  upon  them,  or  woven 
in  the  tissue  of  them.  That  is  tlie  appointed  course 
of  human  tilings. 

Here  are  two  excerpts  from  the  celebrated  Gather- 
coal,  a  Yankee  friend  of  mine  ;  which  flash  strangely 
a  kind  of  torch-gleam  into  the  hidden  depths  ;  and 
indicate  to  ns  the  grave  and  womb  of  Jesuitism,  and 
of  several  other  things: 

'Moses  and  the  Jews  did  not  make  God^s  Laws,' 
exclaims  he  ;  'no,  by  no  means;  they  did  not  even 
read  them  in  a  way  that  has  been  final,  or  is  satisfac- 
tory to  me  !  In  several  important  respects  I  find  said 
reading  decidedly  bad ;  and  will  not,  in  anywise, 
think  of  adopting  it.  How  dare  I,  think  you  ?  —  And 
yet,  alas,  if  we  forget  to  read  these  Law^s  at  all  ;  if 
we  go  along  as  if  they  were  not  there  ! 

'My  enlightened  friends  of  this  present  supreme 
age,  what  shall  I  say  to  you  ?  That  time  does  rest 
on  Eternity;  that  he  who  has  no  vision  of  Eternity 
will  never  get  a  true  hold  of  Time,  or  its  affairs. 
Time  is  so  constructed  ;  that  is  the  fact  of  the  con- 
struction of  this  world.  And  no  class  of  mortals  who 
have  not,  —  through  Nazareth  or  otherwise,  —  come 
to  get  heartily  acquainted  with  such  fact,  perpetually 
familiar  with  it  in  all  the  outs  and  ins  of  their  exist- 
ence, have  ever  found  this  Universe  habitable  long. 
Alas,  no;  their  fraternities,  equalities,  free-trade  phi- 
losophies, greatest-happiness  principles,  soon  came  to 
a  conclusion  ;  and  the  poor  creatures  had  to  go,  —  to 
the  Devil,  I  fear !  Generations  such  as  ours  play  a 
curious  part  in  World-Hislory. 

'  They  sit  as  Ap^s  do  round  a  fire  in  the  woods,  but 


420  JESUITISM. 

know  not  how  to  feed  it  with  fresh  sticks.  They 
have  to  quit  it  soon,  and  march  —  into  Chaos,  as  I 
conjectnre  ;  into  that  land  of  which  Bedlam  is  the 
Mount  Zion.  The  world  turns  out  not  to  be  made 
of  mere  eatables  and  drinkables,  of  newspaper  puffs, 
gilt  carriages,  conspicuous  flunkeys  ;  no,  but  of  some- 
thing otlier  than  these!  Old  Suetonius  Romans, 
corrupt  babbling  Greeks  of  the  Lower  Empire,  ex- 
amples more  than  one  :  consider  them  ;  be  taught  by 
them,  add  not  to  the  number  of  them.  Heroism,  not 
the  apery  and  traditions  of  Heroism  ;  the  feeling, 
spoken  or  silent,  that  in  man's  life  there  did  lie  a  God- 
like, and  that  his  Time-history  was  verily  but  an 
emblem  of  some  Eteri^al  :  without  this  there  had  been 
no  Rome  either;  it  was  this  that  had  made  old  Rome, 
old  Greece,  and  old  India.  Apes,  with  their  wretched 
blinking  eyes,  squatted  round  a  fire  which  they  can- 
not feed  with  new  wood  ;  which  they  say  will  last 
forever  without  new  wood,  —  or,  alas,  which  they 
say  is  going  out  forever  :  it  is  a  sad  sight  !  ' 

Elsewhere  my  eccentric  friend,  as  some  call  him, 
—  whose  centre,  however,  I  think  I  have  got  into, — 
has  this  passage  : 

'Church,  do  you  say?  Look  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago.  in  the  stable  at  Bethlehem  :  an  infant  laid 
in  a  manger !  Look,  thou  ass.  and  behold  it  ;  it  is  a 
fact,  — the  most  undubitable  of  facts  :  thou  wilt  there- 
by learn  innumerable  things.  Jesus  of  Nazareth  and 
the  life  he  led,  and  the  death  he  died,  does  it  teach 
thee  nothing  ?  Through  this,  as  through  a  miracu- 
lous window,  the  heaven  of  Martyr  Heroism,  the 
*' divine  depths  of  Sorrow,"  of  noble  Labor,  and  ths 


JESUITISM.  421 

unspeakable  silent  expanses  of  Eternity,  first  in  man's 
history  disclose  themselves.  The  admiration  of  all 
nobleness,  divine  ivorship  of  godlike  nobleness,  how 
universal  it  is  in  the  history  of  man ! 

'  But  mankind,  that  singular  entity  mankind,  is 
like  the  fertilest,  flnidest,  most  wondrous  element,  an 
element  in  which  the  strangest  things  crystallize 
themselves,  and  spread  out  in  the  most  astounding 
growths.  The  event  at  Bethlehem  was  of  the  Year 
One  ;  but  all  years  since  that,  eighteen  hundred  of 
them  now,  have  been  contributing'Tiew  growth  to  it, 
—  and  see,  there  it  stands:  the  Church!  Touching 
the  earth  with  one  small  point ;  springing  out  of  one 
small  seedgrain,  rising  out  therefrom,  ever  higher, 
ever  broader,  high  as  the  Heaven  itself,  broad  till  it 
overshadow  the  whole  visible  Heaven  and  Earth,  and 
no  star  can  be  seen  but  through  it.  From  such  a 
seedgrain  so  has  it  grown ;  planted  in  the  reverences 
and  sacred  opulences  of  the  soul  of  mankind  ;  fed 
continually  by  all  the  noblenesses  of  some  forty  gener- 
ations of  men.  The  world-tree  of  the  Nations  for  so 
long  ! 

'  Alas,  if  its  roots  are  now  dead,  and  it  have  lost 
hold  of  the  firm  earth,  or  clear  belief  of  mankind, — 
what,  great  as  it  is,  can  by  possibility  become  of  it? 
Shaken  to  and  fro,  in  Jesuitisms,  Gorham  Controver- 
sies, and  the  storms  of  inevitable  Fate,  it  must  sway 
hither  and  thither  ;  nod  ever  farther  from  the  perpen- 
dicular; nod' at  last  too  far;  and,  —  sweeping  the 
eternal  Heavens  clear  of  its  old  brown  foliage  and 
multitudinous  rooks'-nests,  —  come  to  the  ground 
with  much  confused  crashing,  and  disclose  the  diur- 
36 


4:^2  JESUITISM. 

nal  and  nocturnal  Upper  Lights  again !  The  dead 
world-tree  will  have  declared  itself  dead.  It  will  lie 
there  an  imbroglio  of  torn  boughs  and  ruined  frag- 
ments, of  bewildered  splittings  and  wide-spread  shiv- 
ers ;  out  of  which  the  poor  inhabitants  must  make 
what  they  can  ! '  —  Enough  now  of  Gathercoal,  and 
his  torch-gleams. 

Simple  souls  still  clamor  occasionally  for  what  they 
call  'anew  religion.'  My  friends,  you  will  not  get 
this  new  religion  of  yours  ;  —  I  perceive,  you  already 
have  it,  have  always  had  it !  All  that  is  true  is  your 
'religion,'  —  is  it  not  ?  Commanded  by  the  Eternal 
God  to  be  performed^  I  should  think,  if  it  is  true ! 
Do  you  not  already,  in  your  dim  heads,  know  truths 
by  the  thousand  ;  and  yet,  in  your  dead  hearts,  will 
you  perform  them  by  the  ten,  by  the  unit  ?  New  re- 
ligion !  One  last  word  with  you  on  this  rather  con- 
temptible subject. 

You  say,  The  old  ages  had  a  noble  belief  about 
the  world,  and  therefore  were  capable  of  a  noble  ac- 
tivity in  the  world.  My  friends,  it  is  partly  true  : 
(your  Scepticism  and  Jesuitism,j your  ignoble  no-belief, 
except  what  belief  a  beaver  or  judicious  pig  were 
capable  of,  is  too  undeniable  :  observe,  however,  that, 
in  this  your  fatal  misery,  there  is  action  and  reaction  ; 
and  do  not  confound  the  one  with  the  other.  Put  the 
thing  in  its  right  posture  ;  cart  not  fi^ore  horse,  if  you 
would  make  an  effort  to  stir  from  this  fatal  spot !  Tt 
is  your  own  falsity  that  makes  the  Universe  incred- 
ible. I  affirm  to  you,  this  Universe,  in  all  times,  and 
in  your  own  poor  time  as  well,  is  the  express  imago 


JESUITISM.  423 

and  direct  counterpart  of  the  human  souls,  and  their 
thoughts  and  activities,  who  dwell  there.  It  is  a 
true  adage,  *  As  the  fool  thinks,  the  bell  clinks.' 
*  This  mad  Universe,'  says  Novalis,  '  is  the  waste 
picture  of  your  own  dream.'  Be  noble  of  mind,  all 
Nature  gives  response  to  your  heroic  struggle  for 
recognition  by  her;  with  her  awful  eternal  voices, 
answers  to  every  mind,  '•  Yea,  I  am  divine  ;  be  thou." 
From  the  cloud-whirlwind  speaks  a  God  yet,  my 
friend,  to  every  man  who  has  a  human  soul.  To  the 
inhuman  brute-soul,  indeed,  she  answers,  "  Yea,  I  am 
brutal  ;  a  big  cattle-stall,  rag-fair  and  St.  Katherine's 
wharf:  enter  thou,  and  fat  victual,  if  thou  be  faithful, 
shall  not  fail." 

Not  because  Heaven  existed,  did  men  know  Good 
from  Evil ;  the  '  because,'  I  invite  you  to  consider, 
lay  quite  the  other  way.  It  was  because  men,  hav- 
ing hearts  as  well  as  stomachs,  felt  there,  and  knew 
through  all  their  being,  the  difference  between  Good 
and  Evil,  that  Heaven  and  Hell  first  came  to  exist. 
That  is  the  sequence  ;  that  and  not  the  contrary.  If 
you  have  now  no  Heaven  to  look  to  ;  if  you  now 
sprawl,  lamed  and  lost,  sunk  to  the  chin  in  the  path- 
less sloughs  of  this  lower  world  without  guidance 
from  above,  know  that  the  fault  is  not  Heaven's  at 
all ;  but  your  own  !  Our  poor  friends  '  the  Apes  by 
the  Dead  Sea'  have  now  no  Heaven  either:  they 
look  into  this  Universe  now,  and  find  it  tragically 
grown  to  be  the  Humbug  they  insisted  on  its  being. 
Moses  went  his  ways,  and  this  enchantment  fell  upon 
them  !  Such  'enchantments'  rhadamanthine  Na- 
ture does  yet  daily  execute  on  the  rebellious:  he  that 
5* 


4  JESUITISM. 

has  eyes  may  still  daily  see  them,  —  fearful  and  won- 
derful ever  as  of  old. 

How  can  you  believe  in  a  Heaven,  — the  like  of 
you  ?  What  struggle  in  your  mean  existence  ever 
pointed  thitherward  ?  None.  The  first  heroic  soul 
sent  down  into  this  world,  he,  looking  up  into  the  sea 
of  stars,  around  into  the  moaning  forests  and  big 
oceans,  into  life  and  death,  love  and  hate,  and  joy  and 
sorrow,  and  the  illimitable  loud-thundering  Loom  of 
Time,  —  was  struck  dumb  by  it  (as  the  thought  of 
every  <3arnest  soul  still  is)  ;  and  fell  on  his  face,  and 
with  his  heart  cried  for  salvation  in  the  world-whirl- 
pool :  to  him  the  'open  secret  of  this  Universe  '  was 
no  longer  quite  a  secret,  but  he  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  it, — much  hidden  from  the  like  of  us  in  these 
times  :  "  Do  nobly,  thou  shalt  resemble  the  Maker  of 
all  this  ;  do  ignobly,  the  Enemy  of  the  Maker."  This 
is  the  '  divine  sense  of  Right  and  Wrong  in  man  ;  * 
true  reading  of  his  position  in  this  Universe  forever- 
more  ;  the  indisputable  God's-message  still  legible  in 
every  created  heart,  —  though  speedily  erased  and 
painted  over,  under  '  articles,'  and  cants  and  empty 
ceremonials,  in  so  many  hearts;  making  the  'open 
secret '  a  very  shut  one  indeed  !  — 

My  friends,  across  these  fogs  of  murky  twaddle  and 
philanthropism,  in  spite  of  sad  decadent  '  world-trees,' 
with  their  rookeries  of  foul  creatures, — the  silent 
stars,  and  all  the  eternal  luminaries  of  the  world, 
shine  even  now  to  him  that  has  an  eye.  In  this  day 
as  m  all  days,  around  and  in  every  man,  are  voices 
from  the  gods,  imperative  to  all,  obeyed  by  even 
none,  which  say  audibly,  "Arise,  thou  son  of  Adam, 


JESUITISM.  425 

son  of  Time  ;  make  this  thing  more  divine,  and  that 
thing,  —  and  thyself,  of  all  things:  —  and  work,  and 
sleep  not ;  for  the  Night  cometh  wherein  no  man  can 
work  !  "     He  that  has  an  ear  may  still  hear. 

Surely,  surely  this  ignoble  sluggishness,  sceptical 
torpor,  indifference  to  all  that  does  not  bear  on  Mam- 
mon and  his  interests,  is  not  the  natural  state  of  hu- 
man creatures  ;  and  is  not  doomed  to  be  their  final 
one  !  Other  states  once  were,  or  there  had  never 
been  a  Society,  or  any  noble  thing,  among  us  at  all. 
Under  this  brutal  stagnancy,  there  lies  painfully  im- 
prisoned some  tendency  which  could  become  heroic. 

The  restless  gnawing  ennui  which,  like  a  dark  dim 
ocean-flood,  communicating  with  the  Phlegethons  and 
Stygian  deeps,  begirdles  every  human  life  so  guided, 

—  is  it  not  the  painful  cry  even  of  that  imprisoned 
heroism  ?  Imprisoned  it  will  never  rest ;  set  forth  at 
present,  on  these  sad  terms,  it  cannot  be.  You  un- 
fortunates, what  is  the  use  of  your  moneybags,  of 
your  territories,  funded  properties,  your  mountains  of 
possessions,  equipments  and  mechanic  inventions, 
which  the  flunkey  pauses  over,  awestruck,  and  almost 
rises  into  epos  and  prophecy  at  sight  of?  No  use,  or 
less  than  none.  Your  skin  is  covered,  and  your  di- 
gestive and  other  bodily  apparatus  is  supplied  ;  and 
you  have  but  to  wish  in  these  respects,  and  more  is 
ready;  and  —  the  Devils,  I  think,  are  quizzing  you. 
You  ask  for   'happiness,'  "O  give  me  happiness!" 

—  and  they  hand  you  ever  new  varieties  of  covering 
for  the  skin,  ever  new  kinds  of  supply  for  the  diges- 
tive apparatus,  new  and  ever  new,  worse  or  not  a  whit 

36* 


426  JESUITISIM. 

better  than  the  old;  and — and  —  this  is  your  'hap- 
piness?' As  if  you  were  sick  children;  as  if  you 
were  not  men,  but  a  kind  of  apes ! 

I  rather  say,  be  thankful  for  your  ennui  ;  it  is  yonr 
last  mark  of  manhood  ;  this  at  least  is  a  perpetual 
admonition,  and  true  sermon  preached  to  you.  From 
the  chair  of  verity  this,  whatever  chairs  be  chairs  of 
cantMy-  Happiness  is  not  come,  not  like  to  come  ; 
ennui,  with  its  great  waste  ocean-voice,  moans^an- 
swer.  Never,  never.  That  ocean-voice,  I  tell  you,  is 
a  great  fact,  it  comes  from  Phlegethon  and  the  gates 
of  the  Abyss  ;  its  bodeful  never-resting  inexorable 
moan  is  the  voice  of  primeval  Fate,  and  of  the  eter- 
nal necessity  of  things.  Will  you  shake  away  your 
nightmare  and  arise  ;  or  must  yau  lie  writhing  under 
it,  till  death  relieve  you  ?  U^ifortunate  creatures ! 
You  are  fed,  clothed,  lodged  as  men  never  were  be- 
fore ;  every  day  in  new  variety  of  magnificence  are 
you  equipped  and  attended  to  ;  such  wealth  of  mate- 
rial means  as  is  now  yours  was  never  dreamed  of  by 
man  before  :  —  and  to  do  any  noble  thing,  with  all 
this  mountain  of  implements,  is  forever  denied  you. 
Only  ignoble,  expensive  and  unfruitful  things  can 
you  now  do  ;  nobleness  has  vanished  from  the  sphere 
where  you  live.  The  way  of  it  is  lost,  lost  ;  the  pos- 
sibility of  it  has  become  incredible.  We  must  try  to 
do  without  it,  I  am  told.  —  Well ;  rejoice  in  your  up- 
holsteries and  cookeries  then,  if  so  be  they  will  make 
you  'happy.'  Let  the  varieties  of  them  be  continual 
and  innumerable.  In  all  things  let  perpetual  change, 
if  that  is  a  perpetual  blessing  to  you,  be  your  portion 
instead  of  mine  ;  incur  that  Prophet's  curse,  and  in 


JESUITISM.  427 

all  things  in  this  subhmary  world  'make  yourselves 
like  unto  awheel.'  Mount  into  your  railways  ;  whirl 
from  place  to  place,  at  ihe  rate  of  fifty,  or  if  you  like 
of  five  hundred  miles  an  hour  :  you  cannot  escape 
from  that  inexorable  all-encircling  ocean-moan  of 
ennui.  No :  if  you  would  mount  to  the  stars,  and 
do  yacht-voyages  under  the  belts  of  Jupiter,  or  stalk 
deer  on  the  ring  of  Saturn,  it  would  still  begirdle  you. 
You  cannot  escape  from  it,  you  can  but  change  your 
place  in  it,  without  solacement  except  one  moment's. 
That  prophetic  Sermon  from  the  Deeps  will  continue 
with  you,  till  you  wisely  interpret  it  and  io  it,  or  e\3e 
till  the  Crack  of  Doom  swallow  it  and  you.  Adieu  : 
Au  revoir. 


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